tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-223696402024-03-14T07:08:24.999-04:00Mark's MusingsA joke, a link, a thought.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.comBlogger1104125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-25831283715705403842020-02-03T21:35:00.001-05:002020-02-03T22:25:10.711-05:00Super Bowl 54: My Favorite Ads<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Z7mjX8vzf8ZuiT7L6FxxIC-VT03YTNMh5Dnv2LxPD4J4pQ1V9vJyzEB3oy-6NFbKJhZTyjKKRCYoigIYzHZZ3bBOfYqUbLNNzC5IoS4DD2CaxQ04X6ev9Y_qc7C4t1boq5BU/s1600/Super_Bowl_LIV.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="280" data-original-width="357" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Z7mjX8vzf8ZuiT7L6FxxIC-VT03YTNMh5Dnv2LxPD4J4pQ1V9vJyzEB3oy-6NFbKJhZTyjKKRCYoigIYzHZZ3bBOfYqUbLNNzC5IoS4DD2CaxQ04X6ev9Y_qc7C4t1boq5BU/s320/Super_Bowl_LIV.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After a couple of belated ads hit <i>USA Today's</i> Ad Meter, I ended up watching - and rating - 62 commercials prepared and paid for and televised during the 2020 Super Bowl. This is the sixth straight year I've been a member of this consumer rating panel and this year we agreed on about 70% of the Top Ten commercials. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Of the 62, I felt about 13 (21%) were able to be rated "good" or higher, and that's a step up from previous years, so thank you, Madison Avenue or whomever produces these spots now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I did notice a definite uptick in the number of celebrity endorsements this year. Seems like every product was able to find some Hollywood star, from M.C. Hammer to Rainn Wilson to Chris Evans and Sylvester Stallone and Sam Elliott to Bill Murray and Jason Momoa to shill for one product or another.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8957x9XRb_hwVSeC7mffBgfM92n7RyWa0Ry29gwbNyZHIps2GCrHbJ4oTnByZpLvK62umqkqzq8n5DOAlNCghr00cU7Rf4YxR_PhP2CQnzVdyxvTPIl9mfZ9rP0LtnQ1Z5ZPO/s1600/BabyNut.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8957x9XRb_hwVSeC7mffBgfM92n7RyWa0Ry29gwbNyZHIps2GCrHbJ4oTnByZpLvK62umqkqzq8n5DOAlNCghr00cU7Rf4YxR_PhP2CQnzVdyxvTPIl9mfZ9rP0LtnQ1Z5ZPO/s200/BabyNut.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Some commercials were just baffling to me. The Planters "Baby Nut" commercial, for one. I had no clue what was going on. I found out later that Planters Nuts had apparently "killed off" it's monocle-wearing cane-toting Mr. Nut character as an homage to Iron Man's death in the last Avenger's movie. They stopped the campaign momentarily after Kobe Bryant's death, but re-started it for the Super Bowl, intending to bring the Mr. Nut character back in his entirety in the fullness of time. But the commercial itself was utter nonsense.<br /><br />Another that baffled me was Audi's "Let It Go" with Maisie Williams. What an electric car has to do with a heatwave and a traffic jam is beyond me, aside from her getting to sing "the cold never bothered me, anyway" as a trade-off on her <i>Game of Thrones</i> WinterFell character. Surely I must have missed something.<br /><br />I could go on ... Pringles, TurboTax, Heinz, Sabra's infamous hummus ad, Winona Ryder for Squarespace, Pop-Tarts ... please just make them stop. You have to wade through a lot of, well, god-awful tripe to find the occasional 30 to 60 seconds of creativity, wit, imagination, and a dash of heart.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Normally, I only give you my Top Five picks, because well, that's all I can find worrthy of presenting. But this year I'll run down my Top Ten because yes, there were that many that I thought were worth sharing. I should also mention that this year my wife watched every commercial with me and we voted together, averaging our vote when we disagreed.</span><br />
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<i><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">#10 ... Walmart: Famous Visitors</span></b></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This is one that might have been rated higher if I were voting by myself, being the huge Sci-Fi nerd that I am. But my wife's vote brought it down some, as she didn't geek out nearly as much. Still, she recognized most of the characters and thought the ending was cute.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><b>#9 ... The NFL: Next 100</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The National Football League celebrated their 100th year in business this year and they showed off with this nearly 3-minute commercial that ended with the cast delivering the game ball - live - to the stadium in Miami. The commercial featured current and past legends of the game. It may have even topped the show stopper the league put together last year. The rest of the professional sports world should go to school on how this sport markets itself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><b>#8 ... Doritos: Cool Ranch</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There is so much to like about this commercial. Let's start with just the very idea of Sam Elliott dancing to "Old Town Road." I have already begun training my mustache.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><b>#7 ... Verizon: Amazing Things 5G Won't Do</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It's a good reminder that technology doesn't do everything for us. That it needs people to drive it and be willing to be the heart behind it. Yeah, I'm a sucker for this kind of thing. I admit it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><i>#6 ... Rocket Mortgage: Comfortable</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now, some people were creeped out by this commercial. We loved it. Honestly, we're not big fans of Rocket Mortgage, but that Jason Momoa was willing to poke HUGE fun of his tough guy image ... well, that we were over the moon about.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><i>#5 ... Hyundai: Smaht Pahk</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We loved this commercial. Excuse me, commehshahl. The celebrities were clearly having fun, the repartee was charged, flowing, and hilarious. And we still sometimes do our best wicked awful Boston dialect. The behind the scenes video, however, said they wrote <u><b>340</b></u> scripts before they went with this one. With over 100 million viewers for the Super Bowl, I guess they felt they had to get it just right.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><i>#4 ... Reese's: Take 5 Rock</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So how many idioms can you fit into 30 seconds? Reese's takes a crack at finding out. Every single one made us laugh. The split second reactions come so fast and are so spot on you will need to watch it again just to catch them all. Beautifully done and the reason it cracked our Top Five. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><b>#3 ... Jeep: Groundhog Day</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I'll tell you right now this was voted the #1 commercial of the Super Bowl nationwide by Ad Meter panelists. And it came close for us. It was almost like a little movie sequel but this time the Groundhog was a complicit character.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><b>#2 ... Amazon: Before Alexa</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It says much that Amazon has enough money to pay for a 90-second Super Bowl spot instead of the standard 30- or 60-second commercial, but you get more story and, well, yucks for your bucks by doing so. And I loved the little twist at the end with Ellen's favorite song.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><b>#1 ... Google: Loretta</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Yes, I'm a sentimental softie and an old fool and undoubtedly still grieving the death of my father these three years past. But this commercial, that sound track, those images, that narration, Lord, have mercy. If nothing else, this commercial has sparked an interest in learning new ways to use my Google Home Assistant.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">+++</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I want to give the creative people from Tide's advertising agency a shout out. They spent their money well. All throughout the game poor Charlie was trying to get a stain out of his shirt and he kept popping up in other ads - for Bud Light/Knight, The Masked Singer, Wonder Woman '84, - and when he finally did get the stain out, well ... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0RVUcdyEq9k">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0RVUcdyEq9k</a>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I should also mention you can see all the ratings from all around the country for **all** the ads over at <span style="color: red;"><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="color: red;"><a href="https://admeter.usatoday.com/results/2020" target="_blank">Ad Meter</a></span></b></span></span>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Until next year ....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">+++</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mark's
Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without
notice. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication
and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. I also enjoyed Anthony Anderson and T-Mobile's "Mama" commercial.</span></span></i></span>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-84131769539319593032019-02-17T20:01:00.000-05:002019-02-18T09:43:54.756-05:00But Wait! There's Moher!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha95YpHVl9mIvh7YLFfIx_naDNAFErXYeToAqJTRW8mtmsX-dHCiDtchF7pUnmwDwOXQtkF7mUaOaFq5DPh7z_ukTkTYmFm5faPpQE29AvqntHRJy378r1BpnDipXQePcl2vGa/s1600/20170524_121023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha95YpHVl9mIvh7YLFfIx_naDNAFErXYeToAqJTRW8mtmsX-dHCiDtchF7pUnmwDwOXQtkF7mUaOaFq5DPh7z_ukTkTYmFm5faPpQE29AvqntHRJy378r1BpnDipXQePcl2vGa/s200/20170524_121023.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>The Cliffs, upon our arrival</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Originally meant to be posted Wednesday, May 24.2017</i></span></b> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Wednesday morning we set out on our last great Ireland adventure - the Cliffs of Moher. The last time I was here was with my father in <span style="color: red;"><b><a href="http://mrhumornet.blogspot.com/2014/04/travels-with-dad-cliff-at-cliffs.html" target="_blank">April of 2014</a></b></span>. That day it was cold, blustery, and wet, which I was led to believe is the natural state of the Cliffs of Moher, being on the very edge of the Atlantic Ocean. So Bonnie and I dressed appropriately: In layers, with knit toques (warm winter caps). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When we arrived, around 10:30am, that was pretty much the state of the weather, except it was quite a bit warmer. So the caps stayed in our backpack. As you can see in the picture at the top, the mists and fog were still lying pretty heavy, obscuring some of the view's grandeur. But as the day began to warm up more, they dissipated pretty quickly.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA4XcRKZQFVEXW-QtMXtqP-kdFenHjlJzSR8G6Kbv1GTWVqOztVVGi9bJRhbZdohYJc6QNytEr-W26KkAixEVrRlsvxYnqgUHnFuZ6xAUS44-MEiwms0UODdHfR-kWn6rTzua7/s1600/20170524_071914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA4XcRKZQFVEXW-QtMXtqP-kdFenHjlJzSR8G6Kbv1GTWVqOztVVGi9bJRhbZdohYJc6QNytEr-W26KkAixEVrRlsvxYnqgUHnFuZ6xAUS44-MEiwms0UODdHfR-kWn6rTzua7/s200/20170524_071914.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>The Cliffs are inspiring.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Cliffs are in a wee bit of a horseshoe shape, with the Visitor Center at the bottom of the U and just a short leg to the right, with a long leg (pictured above) to the left. At one point, Bonnie moved to take a picture of the left side, but behind another person. When I motioned her over to get an unobstructed view, she whispered, "that's not what I'm shooting." (See photo to right.) Yes, the beauty of the Cliffs of Moher are certainly inspiring. They are spectacular and once you've seen them in person, you never forget them.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjaMqULpGZJkAH3p6dBiN0hIMpYPgfo4gTXJpjz98fvIdzzJALHnMvoLDu1LMFIecpwItOOnZbYpfp2SfA6fRn3A5Ry7hf68yBRnch3wJU5AGr3LNnbV_AmQdZFA5iV2ej9qqn/s1600/20170524_120446.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjaMqULpGZJkAH3p6dBiN0hIMpYPgfo4gTXJpjz98fvIdzzJALHnMvoLDu1LMFIecpwItOOnZbYpfp2SfA6fRn3A5Ry7hf68yBRnch3wJU5AGr3LNnbV_AmQdZFA5iV2ej9qqn/s200/20170524_120446.jpg" width="150" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>O'Brien's Tower</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Off to the right of the Visitor Center is a series of broad stone steps that take you up to O'Brien's Tower, built by Cornelius O'Brien in the 1800s, simply to afford visitors a better view of the gorgeous Cliffs of Moher. Even then he had an idea that tourism to this spot would be huge. See photo to the left.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When I was here with my father, the terrain going out the far left side of the Cliffs would not allow a wheelchair, really, and my father was not in any shape to walk. So aside from admiring the view of that side of the Cliffs from near the Visitor Center, we never approached. This time, I was determined to not just walk on that side of the Cliffs, but to walk <i>all the way to the end</i> and see the watch towers up close.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now, one warning if you're contemplating this feat: you need to give yourself 4-6 hours to get there and back. The Cliffs all together are just about five miles of shoreline. At least four of that is on the left hand side. It's a deceptively long walk. Imagine a string lying on a table. Now take each end of that string and push the ends toward one another. That loopy, wrinkled effect in between one end and the other is the part you're walking.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3AHDA1d_KtsjOqSNq_wNycIsUi6v-algKpVsNtsc5hzTegPO1KDfTUcq-u2b-E9tgRr_anUXIGL00IM8i2hQqwVcdgU__afpDfYFYHVn2fp8W18A0XnpVNzDoejEqBgRMfen0/s1600/20170524_074444.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3AHDA1d_KtsjOqSNq_wNycIsUi6v-algKpVsNtsc5hzTegPO1KDfTUcq-u2b-E9tgRr_anUXIGL00IM8i2hQqwVcdgU__afpDfYFYHVn2fp8W18A0XnpVNzDoejEqBgRMfen0/s200/20170524_074444.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>O'Brien's Tower from the other side.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> So it was a long, beautiful walk, and the day grew warmer and warmer ... and then the sun came out while we were not yet halfway to the end of the Cliffs.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We were entirely unprepared for that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The sunburn, at the end of the day, was remarkable. I resembled a lobster that had been boiled ... twice. But I'm getting ahead of myself. The walk, before it became a chore just to put one foot in front of the other, was simply gorgeous. You could see the fabulous Irish countryside for miles and miles. Down onto the Atlantic Ocean and its wild blues and greens. Gulls and terns swooping and diving and calling to one another. At one turn we came across a spot where other visitors had stacked hundreds upon hundreds of small rocks upon each other into dozens and dozens of small cairns to mark the memory. We were careful not to disturb any of them.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLvxmdiSvW8ecnLcdIVs8VU1-uJfbD5XDx1y-e9upWcQiGp8UEXy_XKIj00_sX3de8fdO2Rf7rSn8Axo2cFypkC6u_l1g4KZF0QXKv77nzlxyv4zDiwedXGjICHO-ciDochdJ/s1600/CliffsOfMoher_Cairns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1265" data-original-width="1600" height="157" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLvxmdiSvW8ecnLcdIVs8VU1-uJfbD5XDx1y-e9upWcQiGp8UEXy_XKIj00_sX3de8fdO2Rf7rSn8Axo2cFypkC6u_l1g4KZF0QXKv77nzlxyv4zDiwedXGjICHO-ciDochdJ/s200/CliffsOfMoher_Cairns.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Other visitors mark the memory with cairns.</i></span></td></tr>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We continued on our way. At one point we reached a sign that said we were leaving the park grounds and were now completely on our own. Any risks we took or harm that befell us would now be completely on us. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And, as you can see, you could get into plenty of risk if you want it. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzd4Cq2VxNnwu0vthW1wo-bGiQBUsmpp9iPrmtVcazFM9KmNXLP5gnuIB0o-MHI3Vn5zVykdR2yvjVrzL5vAGQQ9t6sv3y7Giv-ZOTGtUadAEcHdDSLvSgVHDbevq70vWy7cxF/s1600/20170524_130853.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzd4Cq2VxNnwu0vthW1wo-bGiQBUsmpp9iPrmtVcazFM9KmNXLP5gnuIB0o-MHI3Vn5zVykdR2yvjVrzL5vAGQQ9t6sv3y7Giv-ZOTGtUadAEcHdDSLvSgVHDbevq70vWy7cxF/s200/20170524_130853.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Bonnie as close to the edge as I'd ever want to see her.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">All of this and we're still only about halfway to the watchtowers at the end of the left side of the Cliffs.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtsA_CnSjpC9MWQW41BeGjanGfYCjWriGCTA1la_U_IiRQSBpogZYEYphtgQGnPm-8lp4z_ALLLVtrgGplEu3dICMwU-Ime9A7K-xM4gd-RcH26gWY3NROse0cBEJzV4UXMCC/s1600/CliffsOfMoher_MarkWalk2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtsA_CnSjpC9MWQW41BeGjanGfYCjWriGCTA1la_U_IiRQSBpogZYEYphtgQGnPm-8lp4z_ALLLVtrgGplEu3dICMwU-Ime9A7K-xM4gd-RcH26gWY3NROse0cBEJzV4UXMCC/s200/CliffsOfMoher_MarkWalk2.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Still trudging on.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But, as you can see the Towers in the distance, our goal was at long last in sight and we took hope and kept the pace brisk. Though it looks like a fairly straight line walk, the trail would wind and wend and dip and curve and angle in both width and height. It was not something easily walked. But yes, we made it!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgddsacqB9CUIox_t6RkqizWof_GBJlU-z7RXBJoLF1gW4VhNtqNK0nXKqeiLD7Ub_K1aNWdAFDnncopej93m4Kes6TZ8i3b67vDlZWIN35FPtuSaYshyphenhyphenKLJIa3kYzmkUM9Zw0r/s1600/CliffsOfMoher_EndOfWalk3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgddsacqB9CUIox_t6RkqizWof_GBJlU-z7RXBJoLF1gW4VhNtqNK0nXKqeiLD7Ub_K1aNWdAFDnncopej93m4Kes6TZ8i3b67vDlZWIN35FPtuSaYshyphenhyphenKLJIa3kYzmkUM9Zw0r/s320/CliffsOfMoher_EndOfWalk3.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Here we stopped for a snack and a blood sugar check.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">At some point, I finally realized that my skin was feeling a bit tight and perhaps it might be a bit of a good precaution if I tried to offer my pale complexion some measure of protection.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ6UvLrk3xsHnR1w53auI2z7MIn72m9eltvP94rNgJHTcjlH-9QC_wb6gjafG5ce42P__AbBQvqGf10xDC_jmk6tbJlZZyEPQcjC7HwfCxzP6OzcesyzTe-rKKqNc8PG5qWUiz/s1600/CliffsOfMoher_MarkWalk3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ6UvLrk3xsHnR1w53auI2z7MIn72m9eltvP94rNgJHTcjlH-9QC_wb6gjafG5ce42P__AbBQvqGf10xDC_jmk6tbJlZZyEPQcjC7HwfCxzP6OzcesyzTe-rKKqNc8PG5qWUiz/s200/CliffsOfMoher_MarkWalk3.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Alas, too little, too late!</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But the hoodie not only added drag to the backpack, it added a layer of heat to what was already becoming a stiflingly warm day. So it wound up being off more than it was on throughout the 4-5 hour ordeal.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And, as you can see in the photo below and to the right, that was a mistake.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9AJY0-DSgGw8IlZ_GWMC-cBZEkauOgVseuqLuqZr2ZMUo2qmA5nVyPZtVC0LG0jRgnbm6Zs20psQm-WvbW1egnDyT7fwUV-Kjhti8R_7uDGUqmbPa_RwqIjYTCRA2bxJQ3huD/s1600/CliffsOfMoher_Sunburn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="901" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9AJY0-DSgGw8IlZ_GWMC-cBZEkauOgVseuqLuqZr2ZMUo2qmA5nVyPZtVC0LG0jRgnbm6Zs20psQm-WvbW1egnDyT7fwUV-Kjhti8R_7uDGUqmbPa_RwqIjYTCRA2bxJQ3huD/s200/CliffsOfMoher_Sunburn.jpg" width="112" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Unretouched.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I have to tell you, it took me three weeks to recover from that sunburn. And when I went to a dermatologist for some suspicious spots on my head later that summer, he removed <i><b>**eight**</b></i> skin cancer growths. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I have continued to see him every six months since, and each time he has found additional spots on my head and ears. It's as if that trip to the Cliffs has set off a chain reaction that now has lead to any slight exposure to the sun bringing skin cancer cells to the surface. I find it remarkable what an effect this final day trip in Ireland has had upon my life. Perhaps that's why its taken me almost two years to finish writing about it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Nevertheless, on the whole, it was a glorious trip and Ireland remains a dream destination. I still tell people that if I go back for a third time, I won't come home again. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">More importantly, it fulfilled one of my father's dying wishes. He was always sad that Bonnie couldn't travel with us due to her work schedule. So I made sure we went to Ireland together and did it right. I have no regrets.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">+++</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i style="font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mark's
Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without
notice. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication
and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761.
Click the photos. They'll get bigger. Trust me.</span></i></span>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-26390950075202064492017-05-23T02:49:00.000-04:002017-05-30T02:56:33.120-04:00Tuesday Feels Like TV: Castle, Friends<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiErYC_F6JRRoMM5MJozlrK4cDlyORqonvLXfgdJZzY4bdjU28EB4BPmu_VIisgbPm221yOTSDvedvssGYwohH_csXVcEj0xAkv8z6wCLNdKwJRX8XRk2huaGwoX-QKRdhyphenhyphenTcRl/s1600/MarkAndWilliam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1366" data-original-width="1600" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiErYC_F6JRRoMM5MJozlrK4cDlyORqonvLXfgdJZzY4bdjU28EB4BPmu_VIisgbPm221yOTSDvedvssGYwohH_csXVcEj0xAkv8z6wCLNdKwJRX8XRk2huaGwoX-QKRdhyphenhyphenTcRl/s200/MarkAndWilliam.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Myself and William, our cabbie/guide</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">On the advice of William - that's him there, on the right, having a chat up with me at one of our stops yesterday - we decided to take in Ross Castle, less than five minutes from our hotel. Glad we did, it was interesting and we learned a bit more about castles and castle life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Ross Castle was built in the 1400s for the O'Donoghue Chieftans, who were able to defend it successfully against all enemies, until the British attacked from the lake side of the castle, which no one had ever tried before. It was poorly defended on that side and most of the able-bodied men were away helping other clans fight the British so most of the men who were left at Ross Castle were wounded, weak, or old. It wasn't much of a battle. </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQzjjjvmzqIvszHQ4yBn9P7FsT2238fgUT-RRFrro6lWoiXlkq3qY1BwjnSk5x-siVL67p20ndb8bJ5aEYXPch9-uTec0uIehsAPrwhHXQI4GPHXnx0v8R-UzmsQW56EU2y5Fn/s1600/RossCastleExterior.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQzjjjvmzqIvszHQ4yBn9P7FsT2238fgUT-RRFrro6lWoiXlkq3qY1BwjnSk5x-siVL67p20ndb8bJ5aEYXPch9-uTec0uIehsAPrwhHXQI4GPHXnx0v8R-UzmsQW56EU2y5Fn/s200/RossCastleExterior.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Ross Castle Exterior</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">This was about the mid-1600s and the Queen put the Browne family in charge of the castle and its estates. About 25 years later the Brownes built a house on the estate and turned the castle into military barracks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Castles aren't really meant to be lived in, we were told. They were for defense against attackers, and as storage for food, cattle, and other necessaries to get the people through the winter and lean times.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In the 1800s England levied a roof tax on any building one owned with a roof. So the Browne family simply moved the military to another location and pulled the roof down on the castle. It lay in ruins for approximately 150 years until a vigorous restoration project began. Interestingly, every stonemason, woodworker, and craftsman who worked on the restoration had to be trained in medieval architecture and design and the castle was restored to a brand new condition (practically) using only the techniques that would have been used in the 1400s!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Thus the stones we stood on while visiting the top floor were the actual stones used in the original construction of the castle! That was pretty awesome. When they took the roof off, they just rigged up a way to pull the support beams down and it crashed in, then as time went on, each successive floor caved in on top of itself. The wood rotted away but the stones from the top floor simply fell to the bottom of the castle and were re-used when it was restored.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The bottom floor was a stone floor, but every floor up until the last had a wood floor so as not to put too much weight upon the castle walls. The final floor was also a stone floor, however, as protection against fire, should enemies get in and try to burn the place up. One more thing we learned today.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">We also learned that castles were built with spiral staircases that all ran clockwise. This was because most swordsmen were right-handed, and as they battled their way upward, their sword arm would be impeded by the central core of the staircase, whereas defenders had their right arm free to swing at the enemy below. Also, the stairs were intentionally built of different heights - called "stumble steps" - to disorient and distract an enemy attacker. I noticed this the first time I climbed the staircase at Blarney Castle in 2014 but attributed it to just weathering and poor workmanship ... now I know it was an intentional defensive design. Eye opening!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The toilet (<i>the Irish don't call them bathrooms or restrooms or washrooms</i>) - was called a garderobe - and it was just a small open air slit in a room at the back of the castle that opened directly onto the courtyard. If you had to sit and it was windy (<i>which Ireland often is</i>), it would blow right back up your bum so you were quick about your business. It was called a garderobe (<i>French for "guard clothing"</i>) because you would hang your cloak and other clothes *over* the toilet and wind would blow the smells of the toilet (<i>including ammonia in the urine</i>) back onto your clothes. The ammonia would kill the fleas, ticks, and other little insects that would make homes in your clothes. The smell? You didn't care about how you smelled back then. Everyone smelled the same!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">We didn't get many pictures today, but what we did are here and over at my personal page on <span style="color: red;"><b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10155344408274310.1073741840.692904309&type=1&l=32f4741efe" target="_blank">Facebook</a></b></span>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">+++++</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdy96LA3lbKhdLYnX6v0EYEA0iEEt2ms4n97TyUXvHf7yuzIMgDyZTWsVBI4GOulBtkUEVRfUoGVk1TrA5IRFSq61DZXYNW3clEoPItwALmQlrcAiQkl7jklHeMQ8eXyyuBNJu/s1600/KarenAmy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1118" data-original-width="1600" height="139" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdy96LA3lbKhdLYnX6v0EYEA0iEEt2ms4n97TyUXvHf7yuzIMgDyZTWsVBI4GOulBtkUEVRfUoGVk1TrA5IRFSq61DZXYNW3clEoPItwALmQlrcAiQkl7jklHeMQ8eXyyuBNJu/s200/KarenAmy.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Karen Dutil & daughter Amy</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Then we drove from Killarney up the coast to Liscannor, near the Cliffs of Moher, which we intend to visit tomorrow. Tonight was reserved for dinner with friends.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Karen Dutil is the wife of one of my best friends in life, Tim. Their daughter Amy (<i>one of four beautiful children they have</i>) married an Irishman and moved to a small town nearby. I'm not going to go into any details because I won't trade her tragedy for entertainment value, but let me just say that Amy endured something that no mother should ever have to, and Karen was in Ireland to help see her daughter through it. They were gracious and graceful to spend a couple hours with us over dinner and we thoroughly enjoyed our visit together. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfv3Zyw959HxQtbQ5dU5zDM4nbAGUkMVEKuktulsrNp5T0vyUntBAs72zykbTjlUFyFKw_0eRCd7UysWDLjDt9OXm_EFQ9mI9n8m5codrfkI9yToNQAtY_yeuHfmBJy-_LVgHo/s1600/BonnieWithMannix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1019" data-original-width="1600" height="126" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfv3Zyw959HxQtbQ5dU5zDM4nbAGUkMVEKuktulsrNp5T0vyUntBAs72zykbTjlUFyFKw_0eRCd7UysWDLjDt9OXm_EFQ9mI9n8m5codrfkI9yToNQAtY_yeuHfmBJy-_LVgHo/s200/BonnieWithMannix.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Bonnie with Baby Mannix</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In fact, Bonnie got to hold Amy's barely five-month old baby, which you can see she just loved! It was a great time and we are definitely thankful we got the opportunity.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">TOMORROW: The Cliffs of Moher, perhaps Ireland's <i><b>most</b></i> iconic natural treasure.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">+++++</span><br /><i style="font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Mark's
Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without
notice. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication
and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761.
Click the photos. You'll be glad you did.</span></span></i>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-88016156103769454002017-05-22T19:05:00.000-04:002017-05-29T19:14:06.739-04:00Of the Ring We Sing<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The southwest corner of the Republic of Ireland is one place that Dad and I never went to when we were here in 2014, so it was with keen interest that Bonnie and I wanted to see it. It is made up of five "finger" peninsulas, the largest of which is Iveragh, at the top of which sits the city of Killarney (yes, <i>that one, </i>Bing Crosby Christmas music fans). It is also home to something known as "The Ring of Kerry," Kerry being the county in which this is all situated.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6X6kHjILap_eXSLEyf2WIUpbg7W98lzeab6z7v5sOefkbKz1qlm33d5yGU04xFPtlkD6u-bye8DidfWD-HS73XZqUhSRaZ191yWeiKkAcgQJQ7LBNwnnQrHfswe8CCF0Yb74z/s1600/CliffsOfKerry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6X6kHjILap_eXSLEyf2WIUpbg7W98lzeab6z7v5sOefkbKz1qlm33d5yGU04xFPtlkD6u-bye8DidfWD-HS73XZqUhSRaZ191yWeiKkAcgQJQ7LBNwnnQrHfswe8CCF0Yb74z/s200/CliffsOfKerry.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>The Cliffs of Kerry. Spectacular!</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The Ring of Kerry is a 100-mile circle of roads and towns and sights that are breathtaking in their wild beauty, nearness to the Atlantic Ocean, small town hospitality, and unspoiled splendor. Fearing we would miss some of the best bits, we booked a private tour with a guide to drive us around The Ring, point out the spots we'd be certain to miss, and regale us with information and tales of the places and people. William, our guide and cabbie, didn't disappoint.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">We started off with a stop at St. Mary's. There are two St. Mary's in Killarney. One is Church of England, one is Catholic. We stopped at the Catholic version. The church was built in the mid-1800s and both a road and a river were diverted to create space for the structure. The Earl of Kenmare was the patron for doing this and their family has continued to be buried inside the church ever since. Right up until the very last relation to the Earl, Beatrice Grosvenor, passed away in 1985. There is a tree that was planted shortly after the church was finished, right outside the entrance, as a memorial to all the victims of the Irish Potato Famine.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">We then drove through the town of Killorglin where they have a pretty famous Irish festival every August, "Puck Fair." It is said to be the oldest festival in Ireland. Legend says that when Oliver Cromwell's forces were moving across Ireland, quashing rebellion, a lone goat was separated from the herd and showed up in the village, exhausted. This served as a warning for the people of Killorglin that something was amiss and they fled, thereby surviving en masse the coming British. To celebrate, they lifted that goat onto a platform and crowned it King for three days. A tradition that continues to this day, though the festival is now a family friendly one.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgld4iyM-gQWOQOUEfT2lM9nZAPNNLgjD1pVUabt0Y9jc8vRtpVFLcDhwOtHtP_0Bl_09XEmyPptkNDW-J3uKCgWRLyHtdc6cl9421lZtJOJCwUQa4mnFESz6tIG1qyH6Ji7nES/s1600/PeatBogBonnie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgld4iyM-gQWOQOUEfT2lM9nZAPNNLgjD1pVUabt0Y9jc8vRtpVFLcDhwOtHtP_0Bl_09XEmyPptkNDW-J3uKCgWRLyHtdc6cl9421lZtJOJCwUQa4mnFESz6tIG1qyH6Ji7nES/s200/PeatBogBonnie.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Bonnie with peat bog brick</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Then it was on to Glenbeigh where we toured an authentic re-creation of a peat bog farm. Peat bog is mostly water, soil, and decaying vegetable material. People burn it as fuel and it gives off a very unique aroma, but not a bad one. It's like a cross between tobacco and incense. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Then it was on to the Cahergall (<i>pronounced Car-gahl</i>) Ring Fort, or Stone Fort. It's a circular structure built way back when - around 800-900 AD - and still standing strong. It was the first of our long walks that day. Mostly uphill. Both ways. (<i>Just kidding, only felt that way.</i>) As always, there are many more pictures on my personal <span style="color: red;"><b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10155344408274310.1073741840.692904309&type=1&l=32f4741efe" target="_blank">Facebook page</a></b></span> in my "Ireland 2017" album.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Then we drove back through Cahersiveen (<i>pronounced Car-sa-veen</i>), by the only old Garda Station modeled after military barracks the British built in India, and past the only Catholic church named after an Irish politician and activist (Daniel O'Connell) and on to the ferry where we left the Ring of Kerry and drove over to Valentia Island. It was one of the perks of hiring William, our driver and guide, that he threw in as a bonus for us. We bought the Ring of Kerry and got the "Ring of Skellig," as well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">We came ashore in Knightstown. Valentia Island was once a critical communications center for Ireland and the whole of the UK, as it was the place where they dropped and laid the first transatlantic cable for communication between the continents. It still serves as the communications hub for air and sea rescue operations along the whole of the western coast of Ireland.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXhMeMFSPYKWh0oqJkDaykw8-Se983ffFJV9fx8ZTQDOi-koOva9dX-n9Hm9JNeGjzM4jK9ey1nS9chS1quLo0L79HUcnS3WwqIojwYeAZydO6z73TNnSQiND0lFjOVx5R7AI/s1600/ViewFromSlateMine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXhMeMFSPYKWh0oqJkDaykw8-Se983ffFJV9fx8ZTQDOi-koOva9dX-n9Hm9JNeGjzM4jK9ey1nS9chS1quLo0L79HUcnS3WwqIojwYeAZydO6z73TNnSQiND0lFjOVx5R7AI/s200/ViewFromSlateMine.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>The view onto Dingle Bay from Valentia.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">We drove up to the top of the island, to a slate mine. Valentia slate was once a booming business, employing up to 500 people at higher-than-average rates of pay and the superb quality of the slate found it being used in the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, and the Paris Opera House. It was an active business from 1816 through 1911, when cheaper Welsh slate drove the company out of business. It reopened in 1999 but now only employs half a dozen people. Check them out <span style="color: red;"><b><a href="http://www.valentiaslate.com/" target="_blank">here</a></b></span>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Then it was on to the Bridge Bar in Portmagee for lunch and some tales. Portmagee was a town named after Theobald Magee, a quite famous and successful smuggler in the early 1700s, doing trade with both France and Portugal. He married Bridget Morgell, the widow of a rich Dingle merchant ... and she was also the daughter of Thomas Crosby of Ardvert, who was a member of Parliament. This did not sit well with Mr. Crosby, who quietly forced Magee into a Portugese monastery where he died "under mysterious circumstances." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But what Crosby did not expect was that his daughter Bridget would step into the power void created by Magee's death and carry on the family smuggling business in quite spectacular fashion!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-RD_QTARaq3HZoZsEO5pN2pLa-RK4elKVk8YgkrQnHPn6yBaZuZijclAZtrLedR-TDn5A4OPV5SawvMeL0JgbyvRk_-l_XZ5m2gpGBDm8WiREsRsmVx-DjXlRrJjelHfTmAEh/s1600/BeehiveHuts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1469" data-original-width="1600" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-RD_QTARaq3HZoZsEO5pN2pLa-RK4elKVk8YgkrQnHPn6yBaZuZijclAZtrLedR-TDn5A4OPV5SawvMeL0JgbyvRk_-l_XZ5m2gpGBDm8WiREsRsmVx-DjXlRrJjelHfTmAEh/s200/BeehiveHuts.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Beehive huts w/Bonnie for scale</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">After fortifying ourselves with lunch, we traveled on to the Cliffs of Kerry. There we walked up an almost 45-degree slope to get to the view, which was phenomenal (<i>see photo at the top of this page, and remember, you can click or tap any photo for a larger view</i>). It was difficult to see with the mists rolling in, but from there you can spot a spit of rock called "Skellig Michael," or Skellig Rock. At one time monks built a monastery on that little island and lived in beehive huts within. That little island also is featured prominently at the end (and I assume will also be in the beginning) of Star Wars Episodes VII and VIII. (The Force Awakens <i>and the not-yet-released </i>The Last Jedi)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">While still on the Skellig Ring, we stopped at a local <span style="color: red;"><b><a href="https://www.skelligschocolate.com/" target="_blank">chocolate shop</a></b></span>. Butler's is the popular brand of chocolate in Ireland and you can find them in most every shop and petrol station, but Skellig chocolate is delicious, and creamy, and smooth, and keeps the small business industry alive. We bought enough to keep my diabetic sugar crashes at bay for months!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeeckXJi4Qay66IYDRwte3jGnazIndCfaHO3RqAv07V9RFI9M-dWg1pxtikF7DopW3w2_lqqAOfrUG0Sw9SuJP8iK7X__sJTu3qJc23btJMX7qzGe_qdFGD1_CINOj9R7qAX8l/s1600/OakTreeMarkBonnie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="875" data-original-width="1600" height="108" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeeckXJi4Qay66IYDRwte3jGnazIndCfaHO3RqAv07V9RFI9M-dWg1pxtikF7DopW3w2_lqqAOfrUG0Sw9SuJP8iK7X__sJTu3qJc23btJMX7qzGe_qdFGD1_CINOj9R7qAX8l/s200/OakTreeMarkBonnie.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>At the "Ladies View" lookout</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Finally, it was back to the Ring of Kerry for a stop in the sleepy little town of Sneem (<i>which is an actual place and not something out of Dr. Seuss</i>). Then on to another gorgeous panoramic vista called "Ladies View," named after the spot where Queen Victoria's ladies-in-waiting were brought to enjoy and appreciate the Irish countryside.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">From there, you can look down into the "Black Valley," as it is called. It is remote and steep and it is jokingly referred to as "Black" because it was the very last place in Ireland to receive electricity and telephone lines (not until 1976!). The name probably originates from how dark it gets due to the hills rising on every side.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">From there it was a long drive back through the Killarney National Park to our hotel, with one last stop at the Torc Waterfall, a lovely little fall that becomes a bit of a babbling brook in short order. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">When we met William in the lobby at 9:30 this morning, he said we'd be back about 4:30. But William never rushed us, stopped often, and we had just a lovely time conversing with him throughout the day. We finally pulled back into our hotel at 7:00pm!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Man, were we bushed. So bushed, as a matter of fact, that I only just now finished this blog entry -- a week later!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWiZDxH749ugdFvDPhMY5oOc6SoiETckUGgqlh8zwfsd8t092vo_nlOQ-kYH3vBIBqHNx6MEV17dm3eqs_zAIaHBcyKI8IuOLWE7PYUlw4egZKicfjsSpLPm4i34hxtJ3-gk_g/s1600/CliffsOfKerrySelfie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWiZDxH749ugdFvDPhMY5oOc6SoiETckUGgqlh8zwfsd8t092vo_nlOQ-kYH3vBIBqHNx6MEV17dm3eqs_zAIaHBcyKI8IuOLWE7PYUlw4egZKicfjsSpLPm4i34hxtJ3-gk_g/s200/CliffsOfKerrySelfie.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Obligatory selfie</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I leave you with this one last selfie of us at the Cliffs of Kerry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">+++++</span><br />
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<i style="font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Mark's
Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without
notice. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication
and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761.
Click the photos. You'll be glad you did.</span></span></i>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-64474307267982035402017-05-21T00:25:00.000-04:002017-05-23T00:32:48.560-04:00Sunday Blarney Sunday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMB3nn0ehZuqhaKJRVixvw3DIpW3M85NR5ZnqfoBPbyvz6OaBPJMT1nib7k6iWPg3gdsoVHqrobkujzdBPg4LKE1ToBln-XD8qWKvac1V5RyKN__mhGtiL-n8VaQ4w4gUP5GIS/s1600/BlarneyCastleSideView.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMB3nn0ehZuqhaKJRVixvw3DIpW3M85NR5ZnqfoBPbyvz6OaBPJMT1nib7k6iWPg3gdsoVHqrobkujzdBPg4LKE1ToBln-XD8qWKvac1V5RyKN__mhGtiL-n8VaQ4w4gUP5GIS/s200/BlarneyCastleSideView.jpg" width="182" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Blarney Castle</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Blarney Castle - one of Ireland's top three iconic tourist stops - was on today's agenda and it didn't disappoint. You should allow a minimum of four hours for this destination because it's not just the castle on these grounds. There are nature trails (some of which will take the better part of an hour to hike), the Rock Close (a druid stone garden), the Stable Yard, the family mansion, a cave or two, and the Poison Garden.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Cormac McCarthy built this place on the bones of a wooden hunting lodge. McCarthy's work was done in 1446, predating Columbus sailing to America by almost half a century. So yeah, it's old and a miracle of engineering that it remains standing today, some 570+ years later.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Legend - according to Blarney Castle officials - says that the stone was once called "Jacob's Pillow" and was brought to Ireland by the prophet Jeremiah in his travels. After it was used as a pillow on the deathbed of St. Columba, it was moved to Scotland where it was used as the "Stone of Destiny" and in some manner selected the succession of kings and leaders there. When McCarthy sent 5,000 men to Scotland in the aid of Robert the Bruce in his fight against the English, a portion of the stone was struck off and given to McCarthy in appreciation. But there are also several other origin stories.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It was a witch, the legend goes, who revealed to McCarthy the secrets of "The Stone of Eloquence" after he had saved her from drowning. There are several other legends involving the witch in The Rock Close nearby.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The word "blarney" was actually attributed to Queen Elizabeth (the First) who had sent officials to Munster (the Irish province on which the castle sits) in order to negotiate ceding the property to England. McCarthy Mor (a son and heir) refused but did so in such flowery praise of Her Majesty that her agent was sent back to England feeling he'd accomplished something but, in fact, hadn't. When the Queen heard the report from her negotiator, she reportedly burst out in anger, "this is all blarney!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I loved one explanation I heard about the difference between blarney and baloney. Baloney is telling a woman she looks lovely for her age. Blarney is asking a woman how old she is, because "I'd like to know the age at which a woman looks her finest." It is, as I've read, the "varnished truth."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I kissed the Blarney Stone when I was here with my father in April of 2014. Today my wife had the honor. (See the photo.) You lay on your back and lean way out over the edge at the top of the castle parapets (about four stories high) and bend down backward for your lips to reach the stone. Imagine what it must have been like in the days before those handrails were installed!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There are plenty of other pictures available for all to see at my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10155344408274310.1073741840.692904309&type=1&l=32f4741efe" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Facebook personal page</span></b></a>, including this beauty from The Rock Close (photo should be at left). Well, okay, *not* this particular one, but plenty more like it and others.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUVAdQH2tB0nr80gjveLRv-dDfoptg218xBecIftVzVcM4GAKMEUOqmiGwo_GiTqFFpRHmsjyW0RcIIJLUlafJYZgnsBl8j3aUnWvOwaGS6EvU4nw8Cw4ARYdaC1Y8pv45b4gx/s1600/BlarneyRockCloseWaterfall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUVAdQH2tB0nr80gjveLRv-dDfoptg218xBecIftVzVcM4GAKMEUOqmiGwo_GiTqFFpRHmsjyW0RcIIJLUlafJYZgnsBl8j3aUnWvOwaGS6EvU4nw8Cw4ARYdaC1Y8pv45b4gx/s200/BlarneyRockCloseWaterfall.jpg" width="200" /></span></a><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR GPS</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So, yeah, we <i>thought</i> we were following our GPS instructions closely but missed a turn. Rather than turn around and go back and pick it up, we just kept going and waited for it to recalculate a new route. If this happens to you, let me just say emphatically right now, <b><i>this is a mistake.</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The main roads in Ireland are a thing of beauty. Decently wide, and smooth as silk. But once you get off the main roads (the Motorway and National roads), all bets are off. They become winding, twisty, narrow (to the point of breath-holding fear as you pass cars going the other direction), and pretty much the opposite of smooth. Let's just say that today we took so many back roads to get us back on the correct path that my spleen received an excellent massage. And at one point, we were so lost that the arrival time on our GPS changed to: <b>???</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The ironic thing as you wind and twist your way through hairpin turns is that the speed limit often <i>increases</i> and the drivers behind you have not much patience for hapless Americans just trying to survive until they reach their destination.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">If you're an American driving in Ireland, your GPS becomes one of your most valuable assets. Treat it like gold.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">+++++</span><br />
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<i style="font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Mark's Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without notice. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. Click the photos. You'll be glad you did.</span></span></i></div>
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Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-28217209327370459552017-05-20T05:39:00.000-04:002017-05-21T16:25:05.068-04:00Of Crystal and Cobh<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaRVUOLLi8vXVgUqtLJIAA4mYRpmTSyxJ3noFNfFPYZTIYjZ4_olcgrL_iZWJHNd1r8FSyLhvw1rg3fvSALlvsSCcdZA2sCg8QJXE9ETR4tOucCCODza_MKwwqw8OqX8HkZut/s1600/MarkBonnieWaterfordCrystal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaRVUOLLi8vXVgUqtLJIAA4mYRpmTSyxJ3noFNfFPYZTIYjZ4_olcgrL_iZWJHNd1r8FSyLhvw1rg3fvSALlvsSCcdZA2sCg8QJXE9ETR4tOucCCODza_MKwwqw8OqX8HkZut/s200/MarkBonnieWaterfordCrystal.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Today's first stop.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Bonnie and I set out today fully rested and ready for a pair of stops sure to be interesting. First up was the House of Waterford Crystal, a location that my Pop and I had visited in 2014 but it's another iconic stop if you come to Ireland so I wanted Bonnie to see it. We once again took a good number of photos which can be seen on my Facebook page here, but you may need to "friend" me in order to access the photo album.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Crystal is made from combining lead, ash, and sand at very high temperatures. As in, only the Sun gets hotter. The lead content in the glass has to be at least 25% to be called crystal, and Waterford Crystal is a remarkable 33% lead, which not only gives the crystal its clarity, but makes it hard enough to withstand the complex and rigorous cuts, grooves, acid washing, and etching. There is a more detailed explanation of the process on my <b><span style="color: red;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10155344408274310.1073741840.692904309&type=1&l=32f4741efe" target="_blank">Facebook page</a></span></b>, in the "Ireland 2017" photo album, though you may need to "friend" me in order to see it. If you don't know me, send a Private Message as well so I'll know to accept the request.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6W94I34oOArpuAvKAXKoKVOD7Xu5AyVT9hAXRfwUq8iFKFTB41TBElm8sgQ8na6fcMVmCIcKOhiE7EEIe7YaA02xrRLSQ8y03Pxg9l4_wrC6XEAXWnpS6oASnBds0y4QaxSnw/s1600/LismoreCastle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6W94I34oOArpuAvKAXKoKVOD7Xu5AyVT9hAXRfwUq8iFKFTB41TBElm8sgQ8na6fcMVmCIcKOhiE7EEIe7YaA02xrRLSQ8y03Pxg9l4_wrC6XEAXWnpS6oASnBds0y4QaxSnw/s200/LismoreCastle.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Lismore Castle, the design of which is the <br />inspiration for their best-selling pattern.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Waterford has 178 employees and I believe most of the work they do here in Ireland is specialized orders on contract. The bulk of the mainline crystal work (from online orders and catalog sales) is done at their factory in Slovenia.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Remember you can click any photo and see a larger version of it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After touring the crystal factory and buying a couple gifts and souvenirs, we made our way down to the harbor area by the River Suir and toured Reginald's Castle.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCI2N8X9GdppFObaUUJb_UlJFj1anY6LFI1_NkDDnxhTEJxNrGqjXSQTH0T7QK6Cs2brd223PsoqmL5CIJQXt1ZTad_SACNnCrK1xT-Gb505-3jepTQcTrVFZPuTNhhSBOmxHD/s1600/ReginaldsTower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCI2N8X9GdppFObaUUJb_UlJFj1anY6LFI1_NkDDnxhTEJxNrGqjXSQTH0T7QK6Cs2brd223PsoqmL5CIJQXt1ZTad_SACNnCrK1xT-Gb505-3jepTQcTrVFZPuTNhhSBOmxHD/s200/ReginaldsTower.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This is supposedly the oldest standing building in Ireland. We were told today that, in fact, only London and Paris are older than the city of Waterford.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The tower started out as a two-story structure and defensible fort for the Viking establishment. Eventually it came under siege and was always the last bastion of defenders ... though not always successfully so. As rule of this location changed hands, different kings would add on to the structure until now it is four stories tall. After being a fort and stronghold, it was eventually turned into a jail. From there it became a mint, where currency and valuable goods were stored. Then it was a jail again, and back to a mint, and eventually a museum.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Right across the street, along the river bank, is a special spot. My father and I had spent a night in Waterford when we came here back in 2014. There is a bench by the river that is labeled the "Seat of Wisdom" and I snapped a photo of Dad sitting there. It became one of my favorite shots of him. So today I was able to pay homage to the man, and it was a special moment for me. Thanks to my lovely wife, Bonnie, for playing photographer.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">2017 on the left, 2014 on the right.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Then it was off to Cobh (<i>pronounced Khob, with a long "o" sound</i>). Cobh was the final stop for the RMS Titanic before leaving on its fateful journey to New York. Besides being a lovely old city, it houses "The Titanic Experience," a museum and audio-visual tour that focuses on the 123 individuals who boarded there at Cobh. But first, a word about some of the eight people who got *off* the Titanic, having traveled from Southampton in England to Cobh.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEs9XLCeUkTSZF0CNfVirq8L0yTKiQ4yuSb53j6TUYa_pIeE2yeAMOGftogkinvgBQ7vkCIV_8UWgalOV0Jd1uba-_gktPWea5gx8JV-VyitXBRrB1J6X7ksFGF-uwB1c5ieHI/s1600/TitanicExhibitionDoor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEs9XLCeUkTSZF0CNfVirq8L0yTKiQ4yuSb53j6TUYa_pIeE2yeAMOGftogkinvgBQ7vkCIV_8UWgalOV0Jd1uba-_gktPWea5gx8JV-VyitXBRrB1J6X7ksFGF-uwB1c5ieHI/s200/TitanicExhibitionDoor.jpg" width="162" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One of them, a Mr. E. Nichols, we were told traveled first class and disembarked ... and was never heard of again. Lost to history. Just disappeared. Another passenger was the Reverend Brown. The Bishop in Cobh had paid for his first class ticket from England to Ireland. An American couple on the boat offered to pay the rest of his passage to America. When the Reverend wired his Bishop in Cobh, asking for permission to go, the Bishop wired back: "Get off the boat." And so Reverend Brown's life was saved. And, as a bonus, the 79 photos he had taken on board are some of the documentation we now have of what the Titanic was actually like.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The harbor in Cobh was deep enough to have anchored the ship, but because Captain Smith wanted to set a record in the crossing to America, he anchored out in the channel so it would only take an hour and a half to transfer passengers, luggage, and mail instead of four to five hours to come in and jockey around the harbor. I don't know about you, but this gives me some insight into why Smith refused to stop or slow down despite <i style="font-weight: bold;">many</i> messages from other ships about icebergs impeding their progress on that fateful night of April 14.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiX8mE_sOcRfP9oVJFQjmvz1enzdibka38eKqAzT1gzHbozpfqgPvIsHX6JUUkkMGYupWnjMPuQke9y0a0qZtyaa0XjL3LpaL-fUkF_ShRt6Gh9_zVlyMJN8sukukgLC8lIseU/s1600/VikingMark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiX8mE_sOcRfP9oVJFQjmvz1enzdibka38eKqAzT1gzHbozpfqgPvIsHX6JUUkkMGYupWnjMPuQke9y0a0qZtyaa0XjL3LpaL-fUkF_ShRt6Gh9_zVlyMJN8sukukgLC8lIseU/s200/VikingMark.jpg" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It rained twice today, but both times we were under cover. Once while we ate lunch after the Crystal Factory tour, and again while we drove to Cobh. But after that the sun came out and while it was cool (high in the upper 40s Fahrenheit) and windy, it was still a lovely Irish day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We drove on up to Cork and tomorrow: Blarney Castle!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Finally, I leave you with this one last whimsical image: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">+++++</span><br />
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<i style="font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mark's Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without notice. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. Click the photos. You'll be glad you did.</span></span></i></div>
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Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-22389979629862487412017-05-19T18:28:00.002-04:002017-05-19T18:59:47.663-04:00Friday, Thy Name is Frustration<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I once heard a comedian do a riff on snooze alarms. "We hate waking up in the morning ... now, thanks to snooze alarms, we're waking up <i>three times</i> every day!" Today made me feel that way. I had already suffered through driving in Dublin to get to our hotel. Today, the plan was to make our way south to Wexford, taking in a castle or abbey or two along the way. Bonnie hadn't yet seen a castle, and she felt that a trip to Ireland would not be complete without that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But our trusty steed threw a shoe. The Ford Focus we had rented had, somewhere along the line, blown out the fuse to its power sockets, leaving our GPS running on battery and this morning, within two minutes of leaving the hotel, it went completely dead, leaving us driving blind in Dublin with NO IDEA of how to get back to the airport. While I was fighting Dublin traffic - and have I mentioned that there seems to be construction going on with detours (the Irish call them derivations) on nearly every street - we were trying everything but mouth-to-mouth to get the GPS unit back up and running.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Finally, in desperation, I turned on my phone. We had international calling and data installed on our plan before we left the States. Only you know what? AT&T couldn't find a signal. The phone was offline completely. I might as well have left it in Airplane Mode for all the good it did us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So I was driving in one of the worst cities of the world to drive in - for the second time - and I was navigating literally by the seat of my pants. And that can't possibly be a good thing because my pants couldn't even see over the steering wheel. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWvTVCGWt0bNdWhXjIbsVpoYmaSix64j8Wlv5mtQgzVj13KGxYhp_ZsEac00mpZjZp2dwQl3Aurk2-nTVT91uavDnv0T5OuAFTUT5LgQYuRSQCtTjcGPW9tM_-cOfwvoej7UEj/s1600/UselessMap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWvTVCGWt0bNdWhXjIbsVpoYmaSix64j8Wlv5mtQgzVj13KGxYhp_ZsEac00mpZjZp2dwQl3Aurk2-nTVT91uavDnv0T5OuAFTUT5LgQYuRSQCtTjcGPW9tM_-cOfwvoej7UEj/s200/UselessMap.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Pretty, and pretty useless.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So, once we hit the waterfront (or nearly there) we turned north. I knew the airport was north of Dublin so we started heading that way and before long, we were out of Dublin. It turned into a quite nice drive, mostly along the coast, but we still had no clue where we were or where to go. The map provided by the rental car agency (see photo) was, umm, really no help.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But before long we saw an airplane icon on the road signs, so we rejoiced and began following them ... only to have them lead us <i style="font-weight: bold;">right back into Dublin!!!</i> For the third time, just like a snooze alarm! By this time I could have chewed through nails and my blood pressure was approaching Dow Jones territory.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Lo and behold, what to our wandering eyes should appear, but another airplane icon! So we began following that and when we hit the M1, we knew we were finally on the right path. Having successfully and at long last reached the rental car agency - albeit three hours after we had started out this morning - we swapped out one trusty steed for an identical vehicle, making ABSOLUTELY SURE there was not going to be a further issue with the GPS. We were issued refunds, made promises, and once again we set out for Wexford ... but our day of sightseeing was shot. It was after 2:00pm by the time we got to the hotel and I instantly crashed for a good long nap, having been up late the night before and a complete bundle of nerves by this time.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Vsm6DFnp-pNcHmsQyJTMzgRWMvHMVczBRp0qWGn1FCoGH4Raf0T1Ctl5jJ3t7UzbY7Z7NYIS1e1MgBDM9Jc6SHsbFlM7cFr3WmNaRX3KlTqNools_Kjt9log3ry8NhpHDLGS/s1600/HotelRoomView.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Vsm6DFnp-pNcHmsQyJTMzgRWMvHMVczBRp0qWGn1FCoGH4Raf0T1Ctl5jJ3t7UzbY7Z7NYIS1e1MgBDM9Jc6SHsbFlM7cFr3WmNaRX3KlTqNools_Kjt9log3ry8NhpHDLGS/s200/HotelRoomView.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So today turned into a "rest" day, where we just stayed at our hotel and enjoyed the view from our hotel room (see photo). To be honest, with the change in time - Ireland is five hours ahead of the States and the travel over takes about 16 hours with very little sleep - we really kind of needed a slow day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">By the way, you can click any photo on my blog and see it in a bigger version, much easier to make out details and such.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Tomorrow is a big day as we head west to spend an hour or two in Waterford, then on to Cobh (pronounced <i>Koahb</i>) and finally to our next hotel in Cork.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">+++++</span><br />
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<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-343916362749987862" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 570px;">
<i style="font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mark's Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without notice. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. Click the photos. You'll be glad you did.</span></span></i></div>
Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-3439163627499878622017-05-18T20:24:00.000-04:002017-05-18T20:24:07.623-04:00A Day in Dublin<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Dublin, Ireland, is quite cosmopolitan. At breakfast this morning, we heard French, German, and what we think was Italian, with a mix of strong Slavic English, as well. If you think America is a "melting pot" of diversity, you haven't been to Dublin. It's Ireland's capitol city and has more ways to get around than you can shake the proverbial stick at. You can't throw a rock in this town without hitting a public transit bus.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtsUiEgO2H9ILtrJjlbzgpbWcM2Bm_-t68eiZqL-fpa-6ZB3Nnr1tINT21Gym3bFlleEi357nR3CmZgjRWs-t9UEl_GU9ffO0rGG9ve9qdKB3kqHdVjDrJSrzXy2gThK9ufYBw/s1600/20170518_045007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtsUiEgO2H9ILtrJjlbzgpbWcM2Bm_-t68eiZqL-fpa-6ZB3Nnr1tINT21Gym3bFlleEi357nR3CmZgjRWs-t9UEl_GU9ffO0rGG9ve9qdKB3kqHdVjDrJSrzXy2gThK9ufYBw/s200/20170518_045007.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Our ride the last couple of days.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yesterday afternoon, after taking a short respite from that long travel day, we took a bus tour of Dublin, courtesy of one of the "Hop-On, Hop-Off" tour buses. Saw more than two dozen attractions in the city, and learned a tremendous amount of history and trivia and bus driver personal opinions of other drivers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You could easily come to Ireland and spend your entire visit here in Dublin, and <i>still</i> probably not see it all. From Phoenix Park in the northwest (you can fit <i style="font-weight: bold;">two</i> of New York's Central Parks into here) to the Guiness Storehouse (see below) to St. Stephen's Green in the southeast to the Kilmainham Gaol in the west, there is just so much to feast your eyes and ears upon, well, our two brief days cannot begin to do it justice.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWT3PxzwSGxywGfTxdTXXfq79LXPOBt3Q_5I7IaUqSkkvDT49FlG2sZk4mQaF6j4LpZD8xEzKcahavMSIkuq8_H3nt2CSB9pPQocxIhxsvr7ynIXN9QHIt64tSQ9cWiwfZ8nio/s1600/20170518_052133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWT3PxzwSGxywGfTxdTXXfq79LXPOBt3Q_5I7IaUqSkkvDT49FlG2sZk4mQaF6j4LpZD8xEzKcahavMSIkuq8_H3nt2CSB9pPQocxIhxsvr7ynIXN9QHIt64tSQ9cWiwfZ8nio/s200/20170518_052133.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Couple o'cool cats on top of a double decker bus.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But having been all around the tour bus perimeter of the city, we fixed our eyes upon three locations to visit today: The Book of Kells at Trinity College, the Guinness Storehouse (can't go to Dublin without that on your itinerary) and the Kilmainham Gaol (pronounced <i>Kill-main-em Jail</i>), where we had read you can get a nice history of Dublin through the eyes of the people held prisoner there (many of them political arrests in the Irish fight for independence). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Three years ago Dad and I drove around Dublin. We drove through Dublin. We pulled our hair out and nearly threw out the GPS in Dublin ... but the only stop we managed to make was the Guinness Storehouse and then we didn't see much due to restricted wheelchair access at some points, and Dad's fatigue level. And we never spent the night here. So almost all of this was new to both Bonnie and myself and, in so many respects, absolutely delightful. More on that in a moment.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYsy3HiMxa5GZuXifcwLlWZPLw5Wt6uoYIoTfPCMKaGizk6HnMaMAJw4dzbQIyXbXuQpfOrg9oqlTar4CzQ444A3-52a0_-EgokxuS61tCL1K0KIZrsC2JKqzRgLOmXh-b5XUF/s1600/20170518_062411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYsy3HiMxa5GZuXifcwLlWZPLw5Wt6uoYIoTfPCMKaGizk6HnMaMAJw4dzbQIyXbXuQpfOrg9oqlTar4CzQ444A3-52a0_-EgokxuS61tCL1K0KIZrsC2JKqzRgLOmXh-b5XUF/s200/20170518_062411.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"The Long Room" at Trinity College.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In 1801, "The Copyright Act" designated Trinity College as the legal deposit library and a copy of every book published in England and Ireland and Scotland was to be kept on file here. The storage problem this caused, coupled with a collapsing roof, caused this room to be built, finally completed in 1861. It is over 200 feet long and houses more than 200,000 books. Each alcove has books filed not by title, or author, or subject, but by size. But each alcove and each shelf is designated with a letter of the alphabet, A-to-Z. A huge reference is located at one end that will, much like a map, tell you the letter coordinate to find the title you want. They can get it down to which shelf it's on, anyway. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When you first walk in, you are overwhelmed by the smell of old books. I loved it! There are also - lining both sides of the room - 38 plaster busts of teachers, philosophers, scientists, and local influential persons who have had some great impact upon education or Irish society. I suppose they serve as role models for the students. Trinity College - also called the University of Dublin - is still very much a working academic institution. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But the main event here is the Book of Kells. It is an illustrated manuscript, produced with colored ink on goatskin pages by Irish monks in the late 700s and early 800s. When Vikings began to conquer much of Ireland, the book was sent to a monastery in Dublin for safekeeping. It is an unrivaled exhibition of calligraphy and sacred drawings. In the early 1950s, the Library separated the four gospels into individual books, and two of them are always on display. We saw the books of John and Luke. They are kept in climate controlled displays and you can look, but never touch. A digital copy of the complete work of the Book of Kells - considered Ireland's most precious national treasure - can be found on the library's website <a href="http://digitalcollections.tcd.ie/home/#folder_id=14&pidtopage=MS58_007v&entry_point=1" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">here</span></b></a>.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOhGKxVqX4zu44HzQlo7idBdh5AIvNmhSlW04n4pMe3uLYI-Xue4cCnv_lx8B8XdMjNmI1QrhCE9HnTQY2CmE6LkQMEoCwlRL15BKAhXV7HUQxt3rESFz1jkBxkpEhEUYhuAz1/s1600/20170518_092204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOhGKxVqX4zu44HzQlo7idBdh5AIvNmhSlW04n4pMe3uLYI-Xue4cCnv_lx8B8XdMjNmI1QrhCE9HnTQY2CmE6LkQMEoCwlRL15BKAhXV7HUQxt3rESFz1jkBxkpEhEUYhuAz1/s200/20170518_092204.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Selfie's a little blurry, but we're happy.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">From here it was over to Arthur Guinness' Storehouse. He made ale early in his career, but after tasting a dark porter in England, decided to brew his own here in Ireland. His first version was called a "porter stout" and eventually he dropped the word "porter." At the height of its production, Guinness employed 5,000 people here in Dublin. (Now, mostly due to automation, they are down to about 800.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One mind-blowing fact: Guiness - for 300 pounds and 45 pounds annually (remember, this was before the euro) - leased 64 acres from the city of Dublin for ... are you sitting down? 9,000 years! The company built housing for its employees that had the city's first running water in the bathrooms, and also included healthcare and a creche (preschool and nursery) for the workers' children.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This storehouse was started in 1902, finished in 1904, and the first fermented stout was produced in 1906. Guinness quickly outgrew this place and it sat idle for many years before being turned into a tourist attraction. From here, they built Storehouse #2. They are now on Storehouse #4, with Guinness being sold in more than 150 countries.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGl5AcoCMdkE2RGnFu3zdUPDgvtQ61fG7ZSe6Sb_bCyNeOiArPjQneHYPx7QUf85pqnMvw1RVTu3qMwz8hhN7QhVSehNZyHWVPM4jaqGU0f0pGm37-MpxdIDhQZKrK7EBvToYH/s1600/20170518_112856.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGl5AcoCMdkE2RGnFu3zdUPDgvtQ61fG7ZSe6Sb_bCyNeOiArPjQneHYPx7QUf85pqnMvw1RVTu3qMwz8hhN7QhVSehNZyHWVPM4jaqGU0f0pGm37-MpxdIDhQZKrK7EBvToYH/s200/20170518_112856.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Woulda, shoulda, coulda.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Bonnie and I saw things that my Dad and I had missed, and we also found a little out-of-the way place called the Guinness Archives. It was so far off the tour route we were the only ones there. And, of course, we also visited the Gravity Bar on the top floor and took in a gorgeous 360 degree view of Dublin.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">From there it was back on the bus and over to the Kilmainham Gaol. Only to discover that all the tours for the remainder of the day were sold out. Should have believed the comments on Trip Advisor, I guess. The photo to the right shows one of the last tour groups kicking off at the entrance to the Gaol (note the serpent logo above the door), and you'll also note that we are not in that group. It was a major bummer. But we toured the attached courthouse and the museum and you can see lots more photos of our day at my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/baldmark" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Facebook page</span></b></a>. Look for the photo album "Ireland 2017."</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw1GnSttJUJH1K-HFKgKiNPnyuPpSIWdabYyRL2kJYGLNs5kVQWy-ABv3U9FfWL6S1XsGvBzMhndquLjnbrqBSPuB9-Q3USVSlwgV1k9uEvmZQdxeLfgvTq_EW98EftfSDqlP6/s1600/20170518_052121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="129" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw1GnSttJUJH1K-HFKgKiNPnyuPpSIWdabYyRL2kJYGLNs5kVQWy-ABv3U9FfWL6S1XsGvBzMhndquLjnbrqBSPuB9-Q3USVSlwgV1k9uEvmZQdxeLfgvTq_EW98EftfSDqlP6/s200/20170518_052121.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Note the windows get smaller as they go up.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Couple more notes about the city of Dublin. In the 17 and 1800s, England passed something commonly called a "Glass Tax," that assessed homeowners fees based on the number of windows and how much glass they had. You could often tell how well off a family was by how much glass was in their windows. What many architects took to doing was to make the windows smaller and smaller on each floor. See the photo above.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizbpJ55chzUarnEzaJNvGMb5G00yN0BUFUx74igaL1xvFeVycerR12egiiTbws33WcMsBFxwdnK5jBYykNrDWM0jnjZ5760U6fpuxbi_ffM-34e4cdJNfRC63J5Ld788X7BEA_/s1600/20170518_065848.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizbpJ55chzUarnEzaJNvGMb5G00yN0BUFUx74igaL1xvFeVycerR12egiiTbws33WcMsBFxwdnK5jBYykNrDWM0jnjZ5760U6fpuxbi_ffM-34e4cdJNfRC63J5Ld788X7BEA_/s200/20170518_065848.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This move ultimately backfired.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When the Bank of Ireland bought the old Parliament building in Dublin, they got around the Glass Tax niftily - see the photo above - by simply bricking up all of the windows! This move ultimately backfired, however, as it became a popular saying among the people of Dublin, "If you put your money in the Bank of Ireland, it'll never see the light of day again!"</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4UQ0FBykKyT5Kvm_fEG0Pj4r2N0G-gdpKDLNsAY6dQ2g-b4D1AuKtbv70Ir5x52nOaoQXdEM2C-Xs190dl4Q6sl1rc0NHTf3r_PWUTxCNjHzGea77cBX4xzxlP1IOZLWncDut/s1600/20170518_045311.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="87" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4UQ0FBykKyT5Kvm_fEG0Pj4r2N0G-gdpKDLNsAY6dQ2g-b4D1AuKtbv70Ir5x52nOaoQXdEM2C-Xs190dl4Q6sl1rc0NHTf3r_PWUTxCNjHzGea77cBX4xzxlP1IOZLWncDut/s200/20170518_045311.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Finally, as Americans visiting, my wife and I would like to officially thank whomever thought up this idea (see photo at right). It's a reminder at every intersection (the Irish call them junctions) that traffic <i style="font-weight: bold;">moves differently here.</i> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">More tomorrow.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">+++++</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">Mark's Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without notice. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. And the road goes ever on.</span></span></i>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-58510195647979130992017-05-17T18:41:00.000-04:002017-05-17T18:41:49.488-04:00Wish Fulfillment<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN6xMXA6YQEmPImeG-Su4IvM2tzNqbQkEdrQNhTfKeobuvT_wDk7QiDSy5IDs0YkUOaSxHkSjF_7XpSbePIc1zUZsigfUfqi69r-UgRRexzDDMV9Dbf5Sz1qLln95B78g053Yd/s1600/BonnieDeltaSkyDeckJFK.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img alt="SkyDeck Bonnie" border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN6xMXA6YQEmPImeG-Su4IvM2tzNqbQkEdrQNhTfKeobuvT_wDk7QiDSy5IDs0YkUOaSxHkSjF_7XpSbePIc1zUZsigfUfqi69r-UgRRexzDDMV9Dbf5Sz1qLln95B78g053Yd/s200/BonnieDeltaSkyDeckJFK.jpg" title="" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Bonnie on Delta's SkyDeck at JFK Airport in New York.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It seems fitting to me that my first blog post following the eulogy for my father from l</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">ast September is one that he wanted to see happen. You see, when my father realized he wasn't coming back from his last hospital stay, he had two wishes as he lay upon his deathbed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The first was that I complete his tithe to his church for the rest of the year. He had made them a promise and a commitment, and he wanted to see it through. Just the kind of guy Pop was.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now, when it came to all the trips we took, just the two of us over the years since Mom passed in 2011, he had always regretted that my wife, Bonnie, was never able to go with us because we were either gone too long or too much of her vacation time was already spoken for, or we were just too spontaneous and left before her work - that has strict time off notification policies - could accommodate.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So as he lay gasping for breath on his hospital bed, in the wee hours of the morning right before he passed, he said, "Take Bonnie to Ireland." Our visit to the Emerald Isle in April of 2014 had always been the highlight trip of his life and he longed to go back. We had, in fact, held several discussions on the best ways to do it, and we were planning on him, Bonnie, and myself all going back once his health was good enough.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That day never came. But his second and last wish has been fulfilled. Bonnie and I are sitting in a Dublin hotel as I write this. I had written a series of blog posts from that trip, starting with <a href="http://mrhumornet.blogspot.ie/2014/04/travels-with-dad-emerald-isle.html" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">this one</span></b></a> - if you'd like to compare - and my hope is to do the same this trip.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Unlike that first trip, where Dad and I traveled counter-clockwise around the Republic of Ireland, this time Bonnie and I are going clockwise, and will see a few things Pop and I didn't. Several of the same things, yes, because there are some things that simply <i style="font-weight: bold;">must</i> be visited when you travel all the way here from the States.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I won't bore you with the details from our trip over, but let me just say that due to Pop's generosity, we flew First Class (Business Class for European readers). And wow, has it spoiled me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXHvZoUvL2ke4bwflIbeSFYHm_fyfgLr7ZPegFF6gsmosxWhfoc2Clgv0U3OLAs1LLo7QhRnTa-SmwEOk7cidv3AtShg9_Q1kANhXHVdt9-ZkIxuGkGzskJ-ujPCVHEw2a-J2z/s1600/MarkDrivingIreland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXHvZoUvL2ke4bwflIbeSFYHm_fyfgLr7ZPegFF6gsmosxWhfoc2Clgv0U3OLAs1LLo7QhRnTa-SmwEOk7cidv3AtShg9_Q1kANhXHVdt9-ZkIxuGkGzskJ-ujPCVHEw2a-J2z/s200/MarkDrivingIreland.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We are once again renting a car for the trip and I am once again driving from the right side of the vehicle, on the left side of the road. Very different. (See the photo.) And let me just give all future travelers this one word of advice: if this is the first time you're doing this, DO NOT SPEND YOUR FIRST NIGHT IN DUBLIN. Driving down into Dublin from the airport - even if you were to be completely comfortable - is often harrowing and frequently terrifying. What you don't see in that photo are my hands warping the steering wheel out of shape from the stress.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Seriously, don't drive in Dublin. If you do, park your car at the hotel and don't even think about it until it's time to leave. Which is what we are doing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Two days in Dublin, one each in Wexford, Cork, Lahinch, and Galway, with a two day respite in Killarney, where we will take in the Ring of Kerry. Then back to Dublin for the long flights home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">More to come.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">+++++</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">Mark's Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without notice. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. I believe Dad would be delighted that we are here.</span></span></i>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-44708176404871821392016-09-10T23:11:00.000-04:002016-09-14T21:12:14.585-04:00Clifford John Raymond<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3I4yREo9xE548ZPAx1S6gTu10V5aaFEp7YXwYJF_MYEtIV1kxxWDvDrF4AEAMH_k9zR4dPqk_fgqiiWt7V6WIBacwkENzmP0v-hJGXj_u7I8leGapUU0sefSwND2-ZQRu-QPN/s1600/Grandmas+90th+020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3I4yREo9xE548ZPAx1S6gTu10V5aaFEp7YXwYJF_MYEtIV1kxxWDvDrF4AEAMH_k9zR4dPqk_fgqiiWt7V6WIBacwkENzmP0v-hJGXj_u7I8leGapUU0sefSwND2-ZQRu-QPN/s320/Grandmas+90th+020.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My wife took this photo. It perfectly captures Dad's good humor<br />and impishness.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">July 27, 1932 - September 6, 2016</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>My father passed away unexpectedly this past Tuesday. He had been in and out of hospitals a lot lately. He'd gladly tell you he'd been hospitalized 23 times in 24 months. Every time he experienced anything happening in his body that didn't feel right, he'd call my step-sister or his brother Bruce if he was in Florida, or an ambulance and off to the hospital he'd go. Dad was far from being a hypochondriac, but he knew he was in his 80s, lived alone, and didn't want to die of self-neglect. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Each time the facility would run its battery of tests, give him a clean bill of health, and kick him loose two days later. This visit was no different, in the beginning. Dad went into ER on Labor Day with a bad case of chills and fatigue that wound up being a pneumonia that had set in deeply over the weekend. But then we were told that an underlying lung disease was complicating things. Shockingly, it was the first time anyone in the family - including Dad - had learned he had a lung disease. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>In the end, nothing would bring his blood-oxygen up to survivable levels, and his body shut down very quickly. I was sitting with him in the hospital, talking to him clearly and easily at 11:30 Monday night. Just before 7:30 Tuesday morning, he was gone.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>The blessing is that it was quick. The curse is that it caught us all by total surprise, tripling our grief. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Here, for the record and for anyone who couldn't be at the funeral, is my eulogy. I feel like I failed to do justice to the man, missing any childhood anecdotes completely, but Dad never really talked about his life growing up. So I worked with what I had.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">+++++</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7U-OEfAoHGuJ96KDsnuUkO4iilEQmfRDh5LkremqPlFb7lpE4jju_cnE5jOFgbYB0-4tBvpKVFbNWespT3Wn7yMC_hWVeaM32UZRQqWmoFdBLwcWQL6wp0zztH80J5iqyFcXU/s1600/DadCirca1945.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7U-OEfAoHGuJ96KDsnuUkO4iilEQmfRDh5LkremqPlFb7lpE4jju_cnE5jOFgbYB0-4tBvpKVFbNWespT3Wn7yMC_hWVeaM32UZRQqWmoFdBLwcWQL6wp0zztH80J5iqyFcXU/s200/DadCirca1945.jpg" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dad, circa 1945.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Believe it or not, there was a time
in his life when Cliff Raymond had hair. This young, redheaded, freckle-faced
boy the entire town of Marion called “Sonny” loved to play and loved to eat. He
tried to join the Army more than once during World War 2 and again when the
Korean Conflict arrived, but was always turned down due to a childhood illness
that punctured both of his eardrums.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He wound up marrying his high
school sweetheart, Jane, and they moved away from Marion and struck out on
their own life and adventures. The man you know as a devout lay minister with a
passion to live and preach the Gospel wasn’t always this way. Christ was an
afterthought early in their lives. Dad smoked, swore freely, and both Mom and
Dad liked to drink more than they should at one of the local watering holes. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The problem was that they would
drink too much and when that happened, well … Jane got a little flirty and Cliff
got jealous. It was a bad combination. There were never any barroom brawls, but
there was plenty of fighting with each other once they got home. Dad confided
in me just recently that if Jane hadn’t died at 33, they probably would have
divorced.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cliff and Jane tried to have
children. Oh, how they tried. If everything had worked like it was supposed to
work, I would have been one of six siblings … all brothers! But Mom suffered
from Juvenile Diabetes (what they now call Type 1), and it made pregnancies
extremely difficult. She had one miscarriage, two of my brothers were
stillborn, and two others lived for just a few days. They are buried next to
her in the Marion Cemetery.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So they tried to adopt. They went
through all the applications, all the background checks, all the rigorous
agency interviews, and at the final step, they were denied. Jane was livid. Violence
was about to ensue when Dad, who had been clued in on the reason, simply told
Mom, “I’ll tell you later,” and got her out of there. They had been turned down for adoption at the very
end because the doctor doing the physical on Mom’s diabetic condition told the
agency she would be dead within five years. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq0QDZlJKNI1IMwaafKUQVesffNHEZq_nW8Kud-RCF9c3svvC7uNCm4GCW2aCvE2JAqx9m4C1mvz1nx1qGbbp8_F4ADWSttspTr9fJyD4foPOp0mpN7PViu_HC7VDLqW0rmZ4V/s1600/Cliff%252C+Mark+%2526+Jane+1958-9.tif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq0QDZlJKNI1IMwaafKUQVesffNHEZq_nW8Kud-RCF9c3svvC7uNCm4GCW2aCvE2JAqx9m4C1mvz1nx1qGbbp8_F4ADWSttspTr9fJyD4foPOp0mpN7PViu_HC7VDLqW0rmZ4V/s200/Cliff%252C+Mark+%2526+Jane+1958-9.tif" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The fam, early in my life. I inherited<br />that gap in Mom's teeth.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Well, the joke was on that doctor.
Jane lived for *10* more years and gave birth to me. I was born on a Friday
morning – just in time for Captain Kangaroo – and taken directly to church on
Sunday to be dedicated. Because Mom and Dad were Baptists; had been all their
lives. And Baptists – despite the name – don’t baptize babies. We could only be
dedicated to the Lord until we were old enough to make our own decision about
baptism.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Soon after, Mom and Dad became more
serious about their faith. And Dad found a steady job as a “Storekeeper” with
the State of Michigan. He worked with office supplies, inventory, and
requisitions for every government office in the State. He created new inventory
and reorder systems … that other people took credit for. But eventually he
became the Head Storekeeper and the job offered enough benefits and pay that we
were able to move to a better home, even while Jane’s health failed. We moved
to the house that Dad would spend the rest of his life in, and Jane passed away
in September of 1969. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dad and I did everything together
over the next year. He took me to my first baseball game (the Tigers lost to the Royals),
and we would “rough it” in a camper that fit on the bed of a pickup truck. As
we’d drive, a bug would splat on the windshield and Dad would call out in a
challenging voice, “I bet you won’t have the guts to do *that* again!” I’m
pretty sure that’s where I picked up my love of puns. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One day we had stopped at
a roadside park overlooking Lake Michigan, and there was a sign posted that
said, “Danger: Overhanging Cliff.” Dad couldn’t resist. Somehow he managed to
climb up to the top of that sign, leaned over it, and mugged a menacing look
while I snapped the photo. It was a fantastic picture and a beautiful,
spontaneous moment.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And then we left that camera on the
bumper of the pickup as we drove away. Never saw it again. But I still have
that picture (in my mind). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dad loved cooking on the grill. One
night I brought a friend from school home unexpectedly and asked if he could
stay for dinner. Dad said, “Sure!” and threw another steak on the grill. He
definitely enjoyed using his gift of hospitality. Later his “chicken on the
grill” became something of a legend among us family members. Colonel Sanders
had nothing on Pop’s finger lickin’ chicken.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Finally, feeling so alone I would
find him crying late at night, Dad began to date again and before too long remarried
a widow, Hazel Dast, in February of 1971. Widow women were to become an
important part of his life, later.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_P2jABkYRufgZAMX-BtZxhMLYg-wxii95BL5Y9AuJ-2hRG4IWhjk0R2seA32ZwlkprcySluVa8AtyDQ3cMM_61QJyhb3L2ovJlwuzU99WhxA4XkLiqkbaGTLjeGm2BVrLp7M/s1600/Cliff+%2526+Hazel+in+2008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_P2jABkYRufgZAMX-BtZxhMLYg-wxii95BL5Y9AuJ-2hRG4IWhjk0R2seA32ZwlkprcySluVa8AtyDQ3cMM_61QJyhb3L2ovJlwuzU99WhxA4XkLiqkbaGTLjeGm2BVrLp7M/s200/Cliff+%2526+Hazel+in+2008.JPG" width="197" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Mom Hazel and Dad, circa 2008.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hazel became the great love of his
life. Dad doted on her. Mom gave Dad a sense of stability, a profoundly
delicious set of meals each night, and a circle of friends he never had and he
gave her everything he could. Dad loved Hazel’s cooking. Her banana bread
recipe was so good she had to make extra and freeze them for friends, and no one in the
family has yet been able to duplicate that taste. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">When Mom had made a
particularly good meal, Pop would sit back and utter a phrase that I’m sure
many of you have heard. He was “sufficiently suffoncified,” but I’ll bet many
of you don’t know the whole phrase, which Dad would pronounce to signify such a
good meal he’d have to go sleep it off:</span><span style="line-height: 150%;"> “I am
sufficiently suffoncified so that any further intake would be offensive to my
most fastidious tastes.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cliff and Hazel loved to travel. They
went to Hawaii with their best friends, and went camping a lot, almost everywhere across the U.S.,
really – turning that tiny pickup bed camper into a 24-foot fifth-wheeler, one
upgrade at a time. They loved camping, fishing, deer hunting, and nature in
general.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When Dad retired from his job with
the State of Michigan, Hazel and Cliff rented a campsite in Texas and began to
winter there, eventually selling that fifth wheel camper and buying an actual
retirement home in the Country Palms RV Park in McAllen, Texas. They loved the
people of the park. They loved crossing into Mexico - just an hour away - for cheap vanilla and would
always bring home several bottles for friends. They loved the park “jam
sessions” and Dad would often play his harmonica and sing. He became known for
his outspoken faith, and eventually the park asked him if he would become the
“Park Pastor,” which he gladly accepted. He and Mom would visit shut-ins, make
the rounds of the park so they knew everyone, and Dad would get to preach on
Sundays. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That desire to care for people
continued when they decided to stop going to Texas and returned to Michigan for
good – of course even before this part of their life Cliff and Hazel had become
great Sunday School teachers here at Judson and would often hold card parties
at their home. And they continued to visit shut-ins. Eventually a young pastor
named Zachary Bartels was hired to serve here and he brought Cliff alongside
him in many of the church ministries, the two becoming good friends. Soon Dad
was offered a “license to preach” as a Lay Minister in the American Baptist
denomination. How Dad enjoyed that
honor! He occasionally filled the pulpit here, and would preach periodically at
a homeless shelter, and he loved loved loved every minute of it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Then, in late Spring of 2006,
something happened that would change the lives of Cliff and Hazel forever. A
convertible full of teenagers pulled out directly in front of Mom and Dad like
they weren’t even there. Dad T-Boned the car at 50 miles per hour. Guardian
angels must have been heavily in abundance that day as no one was killed,
though bones were broken and lives were imperiled. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Neither Cliff nor Hazel were
ever the same again. Hazel eventually became housebound, and Dad became her
24-hour caregiver. For five years they led a sheltered, slowly declining life,
until Hazel received her promotion to Heaven in midsummer of 2011. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dad had come to the Internet late
in life. He didn’t even own a computer until he was in his 60s, and took the
leap onto the Internet at age 70. Well, it was dialup so maybe it was just a
small hop. After Mom passed, Dad discovered “chat rooms.” He fell in with a
bunch of beautiful people online who loved gardening, God, and gabbing about
what was going on in their lives. Every day Dad would send this group of
“e-friends” a Scripture verse and a joke, then he’d post a photo he’d taken of
something pretty. He loved the comments he got, and I think those people saved
my Dad’s life, giving him something to look forward to doing every day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzedeOLzj4Ei7A5TPJ_C7QMPYjMYYQRu31n4NZbF3G0LrVIpYHoavlKZdoIFAEo_Zw3W4KFC8cTrkAIQvrGhk6tBJvHDSxRQU7u1-H0e2tPDPvLiUgeRfNPL2q1gzFAZSfJHLE/s1600/New+Sunday+Lunch+Bunch.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzedeOLzj4Ei7A5TPJ_C7QMPYjMYYQRu31n4NZbF3G0LrVIpYHoavlKZdoIFAEo_Zw3W4KFC8cTrkAIQvrGhk6tBJvHDSxRQU7u1-H0e2tPDPvLiUgeRfNPL2q1gzFAZSfJHLE/s200/New+Sunday+Lunch+Bunch.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dad with his "harem."</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">About this time he also began to
hang out with his other “widow women” whom he and others laughingly referred to
as his “harem.” You know who you are – Jean, Jerre, Jeanie, and Donna – and I
need to tell you that not only did Dad depend upon you for comfort and company,
but he always looked forward to helping take you places, clearing up your
“honey-do” lists, and the card parties. He loved the food you'd make for him, and loved that you gave him the comfort and space to lay down and take naps in the middle of your get-togethers.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dad was never a social person, never a joiner; but he
fiercely loved spending time with his family and friends.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dad told me that Mom wanted him to
travel after she passed. She said he should go see the places the two of them
would never get to. The year that Mom passed Dad and I took a cruise to Alaska,
and soon after I took an early retirement from the Postal Service, Dad and I
began to travel in earnest. We went back to Alaska … we drove down to Florida,
all the way <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilrB04dCg1_PQkPKFZ3232bFFeEvbpf8TOykIGKbATZkZT9053PMNX2SWx1QW06WgW_C7kqI5N9bkwL1OFaPfwxopbJOiAK1j4tN1lDMZgIw0uCJt2W2gzbwKpjinoRrUO0hkd/s1600/DSCF0103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilrB04dCg1_PQkPKFZ3232bFFeEvbpf8TOykIGKbATZkZT9053PMNX2SWx1QW06WgW_C7kqI5N9bkwL1OFaPfwxopbJOiAK1j4tN1lDMZgIw0uCJt2W2gzbwKpjinoRrUO0hkd/s200/DSCF0103.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Our road trip to Key West.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
to the Keys, and back home. We drove all the way across the
northeast U.S., into Canada’s New Brunswick and on to Nova Scotia, including Prince
Edward Island where we shopped at the “Anne of Green Gables” store. Eventually
we went to Ireland together in the Spring of 2014. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1uf301gfVyvgjZ17__bgETlTwCDDuVTIYYPs8U4My9kIlnZpaKcMJeyalybmoreP9up9hdierVTgpBx1mR7hYT3BiLSPGYLrS20xJkEJgzAP3zq3rR_HYZVU9Ecacj1v-Kr7t/s1600/DadAtKillaryFjordsLennane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1uf301gfVyvgjZ17__bgETlTwCDDuVTIYYPs8U4My9kIlnZpaKcMJeyalybmoreP9up9hdierVTgpBx1mR7hYT3BiLSPGYLrS20xJkEJgzAP3zq3rR_HYZVU9Ecacj1v-Kr7t/s200/DadAtKillaryFjordsLennane.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Ironically, we were in Ireland.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That was his favorite trip, and he
took SO MANY pictures. We had rented a car and I was driving – from the right
hand side of the vehicle, on the left hand side of the road -- which made him extremely nervous -- and I kept hearing
Dad gasp at how beautiful the countryside was, followed quickly by him saying,
“Don’t look! Keep your eyes on the road!” We always talked about that trip, and
about maybe going back one day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I always told Dad that we had a
symbiotic relationship. He couldn’t travel without my help, and I couldn’t
travel without his money.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dad, of course, was not perfect. He
had his flaws. The word “saw” was a tool
in his workshop, and not the past tense of “to see.” If he wanted to tell you
about something he saw, it was always, “Oh yeah, I seen that the other day.” But
that wasn’t his only crime against grammar. The man never met an apostrophe he
couldn’t use inappropriately. Plurals
became possessives, and possessives became plurals. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And he bore the cultural prejudices
of growing up in the 30s and 40s … always barely disguising a mistrust of those
with a different skin color, especially if you owned a motel and were charging
more than he thought you should. But he was also trying to get past that with
help from others. He knew better. And he knew that he needed to do better.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6YyELoNxhJE79em705TJ237wl9ZkhX4ABLxUIqVKJa9MthyphenhyphenaMZsMEzLzVQcQaDPj4Ngzrz1qA7bRowDGUsmS5v3qzfpPbZf2p-6IRpcpD4GQarbx27aMWDC6f2mLwDoPyjpDb/s1600/DSCF1804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6YyELoNxhJE79em705TJ237wl9ZkhX4ABLxUIqVKJa9MthyphenhyphenaMZsMEzLzVQcQaDPj4Ngzrz1qA7bRowDGUsmS5v3qzfpPbZf2p-6IRpcpD4GQarbx27aMWDC6f2mLwDoPyjpDb/s200/DSCF1804.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dad at my son's wedding last August.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And Dad loved attention. Oh, let us
not deny that. If you were a stranger and met Cliff, you’d know his entire
health history, where he’d traveled, and what he’d seen for the last two years
within five minutes. He and I had several arguments about the proper way to
meet new people. “It’s really not all about you, Dad. Not yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dad should have sold insurance,
because in most everything he did, there was a “backup plan.” He carried TWO
wallets. He wore a belt *and* suspenders. He would put Downy fabric softener in
the washing machine, and a Bounce dryer sheet in the dryer. He had a digital
clock on his DVR and an old analog clock with a battery sitting right next to
it in case the power went out. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He went to bed about 7:30 at night.
He’d be back up at midnight checking his email and Facebook. That’s right, Dad
joined Facebook and proceeded to violate nearly every social convention you
could think of. He posted terribly intimate personal details … on status
updates of people he didn’t even know because he saw you had left a comment and he
wanted you to know about his thing. Dad hijacked more status updates than an air
marshal could stop. For him, Facebook was just a different version of eMail.
And he never understood that the entire world could see what he was writing. If
he did understand, he just didn’t care.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He’d get up at 5:00 in the morning,
and if you weren’t ready to eat by 6am, he began setting the table for
breakfast – LOUDLY. He’d bang the pots and pans while he heated the water for
coffee. He's not using pots and pans to heat water for coffee, but he'd bang them. Then he’d apologize and ask if he woke you when you came out of the
bedroom.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dad was always a creative type. He
went to Ferris State University to study art but dropped <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4NGmA5aTOnyODVRqfQXcDdH-eIbaCMq0dP5hbl6xTG8we1Jx67aGM9uN4xgocm7HpCWurdX3b1NbjzzZWzEbZzSSRv7U1GUKjQcmX-nDrERnVLcH6CM5QnxHMYwUSRoWK-yN/s1600/Official+Alaska+Cruise+Photos+2013+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4NGmA5aTOnyODVRqfQXcDdH-eIbaCMq0dP5hbl6xTG8we1Jx67aGM9uN4xgocm7HpCWurdX3b1NbjzzZWzEbZzSSRv7U1GUKjQcmX-nDrERnVLcH6CM5QnxHMYwUSRoWK-yN/s200/Official+Alaska+Cruise+Photos+2013+%25281%2529.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dad and I in 2013.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
out because he
couldn’t afford it. I have a lovely charcoal drawing of a still life with fruit
in my home. Throughout his life, he would create stuff. He took some surplus
telephone wire he’d found and made tiny animal sculptures with it. He took horseshoe
nails and turned them into cross necklaces. Some of you may have one. The bolo
tie you saw him wearing today was one of his own creations. He made his own
greeting cards on a computer program; some of you received those. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He was well known for giving new life to
old mechanical items, salvaging them for another few years of use. His fixes
tended to be ugly and look cheap, but the stuff worked and kept on working and
he hardly ever charged for the repairs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dad once wrote a novel. I bet most
of you didn’t know that. It was a Cowboys and Indians story. He only showed it
to me once, and he never tried to have it published. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Both Dad and Mom loved to read. Mom
would read romance novels, Dad would read westerns and historical fiction. He
has pretty much the entire library of Louis L’Amour and Zane Grey at home. In
fact, he pretty much has an entire library. There are bookshelves overstuffed
in almost every room and if the house ever caught fire, it would burn for days.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi11j6m7BMvHP7IQw2CgoLDj-AeFx1LZIjn2MSNv0zLg8Hr9u9a96FKm0XX79RhwCbygRL0kZbs3viXLtElFsctqC2zVgxi1taPteN3dXH1SjNq0AEZ0_vmrbC3EA8saKmKqhhj/s1600/CliffordRaymond84_BaileyKateKnickerbocker1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi11j6m7BMvHP7IQw2CgoLDj-AeFx1LZIjn2MSNv0zLg8Hr9u9a96FKm0XX79RhwCbygRL0kZbs3viXLtElFsctqC2zVgxi1taPteN3dXH1SjNq0AEZ0_vmrbC3EA8saKmKqhhj/s200/CliffordRaymond84_BaileyKateKnickerbocker1.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dad, in one of the last pictures<br />ever taken of him, with newest<br />great-granddaughter, Bailey.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I cannot wrap this up without
mentioning his love of a bargain. Getting quality merchandise for cheap
“pleases me old Scottish ancestors,” he would say. This led to his love of yard
sales. He and Mom held some doozies in their day. He got to be so good at
setting up and organizing yard sales that he told me lately he could have made a second
career out of being a consultant for that. And it didn’t matter where you were
going or what time you had to be there, if he saw a sign advertising a yard
sale, you betcha he was going to stop.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I think he and Mom furnished at
least two rooms of their home with yard sale merchandise; if not furnished, at
least heavily decorated. “Yard Sale-ing” was one of his favorite hobbies and one
which age and time could not diminish. If there’s a yard sale on the way to the
cemetery, be ready to stop for a few minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Toward the end of his life, he
became more impetuous in his decision-making. Perhaps he knew he didn’t have
many years left. Three years ago, he calls me up on a Tuesday late in September
and says, “I’m tired of winter in Michigan. I’m ready to be a snowbird again; this
time in Florida. Could you see if you can find a place for me?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">On Thursday I get a call: “I think
I found a place. Could you look it over and see what you think?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">On Saturday, the call comes in: “So
I made an offer on the place.” Monday we make travel reservations, fly to
Florida on Thursday, buy a mobile home in Zephyrhills on Friday.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A year later, I get an email: “If I
buy a second trailer here, would you move in?” Before I can even talk seriously
to my wife about this, I get a second email the next day: “So I bought the
place.” <i>(insert gesture of frustration)<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But my Dad was perhaps most famous
for being early. If you asked him to arrive at 10 a.m., he’d be there by 9:15. If
he said he would pick you up at 7 o’clock, you had better be ready by 6:30. The
man was notorious for this. Even in death. His doctor told him his health was
good enough he wouldn’t die for another 8-10 years. We should have known; Dad arrived
early.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Let me close by saying that if Cliff
were standing here, looking back on his life, he would say he was “sufficiently
suffoncified.”<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAHoWDLhikgVILBuRxrybb5NulR4G2HIFeF-fVrH7YrHbJ2F2WonzIvPS_M8UMBbUc9dpnYgERQlcR8huoO79MgZ5P7nrC1ChyphenhyphensJ7xdJvZg7bSNvNpKqcdq_QeNq8ED-MLkQBw/s1600/WaterfordRiverwalkSeatOfWisdom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAHoWDLhikgVILBuRxrybb5NulR4G2HIFeF-fVrH7YrHbJ2F2WonzIvPS_M8UMBbUc9dpnYgERQlcR8huoO79MgZ5P7nrC1ChyphenhyphensJ7xdJvZg7bSNvNpKqcdq_QeNq8ED-MLkQBw/s320/WaterfordRiverwalkSeatOfWisdom.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>In Waterford, Ireland.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 150%;">+++++</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Dad's obituary can be read <a href="http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/lsj/obituary.aspx?n=clifford-raymond&pid=181332540&fhid=12964" target="_blank">here</a></span><span style="line-height: 150%;">.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">+++++</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mark's Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without notice. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. There are never any endings, only beginnings in disguise.</span></span></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-75228959366681600202016-06-04T12:11:00.001-04:002016-06-04T12:11:35.519-04:00R.I.P, Muhammad Ali<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMqRpP8SDoqzf9KvNmTkFIskeZPmutnrzIfgYzfeZZ2bNzol-POWU-0LSHryrwvu7DyjPRAL8B04E4oIZ1cchSfCAbVMSq7z0NAT7nM-912LKu4rMWiHv7B9nLys4DfuOMlvOv/s1600/MuhammadAli.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMqRpP8SDoqzf9KvNmTkFIskeZPmutnrzIfgYzfeZZ2bNzol-POWU-0LSHryrwvu7DyjPRAL8B04E4oIZ1cchSfCAbVMSq7z0NAT7nM-912LKu4rMWiHv7B9nLys4DfuOMlvOv/s320/MuhammadAli.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Cassius Marcellus Clay, Junior was born in January of 1942 in Louisville, Kentucky. He began training to become a professional boxer at age 12. At age 22, he defeated Sonny Liston in a stunning upset to become the world heavyweight champion. Shortly afterward, he joined the nation of Islam and changed his name to <b>Muhammad Ali</b>. He was convicted as a draft dodger in 1967, when he refused to enter the military as a conscript, citing his new religious beliefs. It took four years, but his case eventually went to the Supreme Court, where his conviction was overturned. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He fathered nine children, won three heavyweight boxing titles, and won an Olympic Gold Medal for boxing in 1960. He nicknamed himself "The Greatest," and was not afraid to talk openly about being a black man in a white man's world as well as other racial and religious issues. He was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease in 1984 and he passed away in Arizona this past Friday, June 3. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">+++++</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>THE WIT and WISDOM OF MUHAMMAD ALI</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"></span></i></div>
<a name='more'></a><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"If you even dream of beating me, you better wake up and apologize."</span></i><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I done wrestled with an alligator, I done tussled with a whale;</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> handcuffed lightning, thrown thunder in jail;</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> only last week, I murdered a rock, injured a stone, hospitalized a brick;</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> I'm so mean I make medicine sick."</span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Boxing is a lot of white men watching two black men beat each other up."</span></blockquote>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"If they can make penicillin out of moldy bread, they can sure make something out of you."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Wars of nations are fought to change maps. But wars of poverty are fought to map change."</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I never thought of losing, but now that it's happened, the only thing is to do it right. That's my obligation to all the people who believe in me. We all have to take defeats in life."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"To be able to give away riches is mandatory if you wish to possess them. This is the only way that you will be truly rich."</span></i></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"The only thing that matters is submitting to the will of God."</span></blockquote>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I am an ordinary man who worked hard to develop the talent I was given. I believed in myself, and I believe in the goodness of others."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"A man who views the world the same at fifty as he did at twenty has wasted thirty years of his life."</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"It's lack of faith that makes people afraid of meeting challenges, and I believed in myself."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"It's just a job. Grass grows, birds fly, waves pound the sand. I beat people up."</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"A rooster crows only when it sees the light. Put him in the dark and he'll never crow. I have seen the light and I'm crowing."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Hating people because of their color is wrong. And it doesn't matter which color does the hating. It's just plain wrong."</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I've seen George Foreman shadow boxing, and the shadow won."</span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth."</span></blockquote>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"My toughest fight was with my first wife."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I'll beat him so bad he'll need a shoehorn to put his hat on."</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"This life is not real. I conquered the world and it did not bring me satisfaction."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">+++++</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Mark's Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without notice. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. Most of these quotations sourced at BrainyQuote.com.</span></span></i></div>
Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-39899112053814714782016-02-08T00:49:00.000-05:002016-02-08T00:49:03.516-05:00Super Bowl 50: My Favorite Ads<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi8b4FQK-pdLkJgOSbrASpc-nDSYyliksg-0rO8F-BPL5Bc_f0uamcZM2Lh4_lA6lD2efuPmjVrEZ0Tvl6JT2JLyLNxqaX7PgAYBKersb-edQVpIEFx33LXhWk0noWKOELR928/s1600/SuperBowl50CommercialsLogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi8b4FQK-pdLkJgOSbrASpc-nDSYyliksg-0rO8F-BPL5Bc_f0uamcZM2Lh4_lA6lD2efuPmjVrEZ0Tvl6JT2JLyLNxqaX7PgAYBKersb-edQVpIEFx33LXhWk0noWKOELR928/s320/SuperBowl50CommercialsLogo.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So once again the good people over at Ad Meter (affiliated with <i>USA Today</i>) asked me to be on their panel and rate the 60+ commercials running on this year's Super Bowl telecast.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">You can see which ones were voted the best over at the <a href="http://admeter.usatoday.com/results/2016" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Ad Meter</span></b></a> site. This year the panel and I were in fairly close agreement, though only one of the two I thought earned top marks (as opposed to four last year) ended up in the Top Ten. The other was in the top fifteen, however.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">By the way, you can see how I rated last year's commercials in <a href="http://mrhumornet.blogspot.com/2015/02/favorite-super-bowl-spots.html" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">this old post</span></b></a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Of the 63 ads I rated, two were perfect 10's, knocking the ball out of the park with creativity, pathos, identification, product memory, and just sheer quality. To earn a perfect score, the commercial had to move me in some way - let me clarify, some <b><i>*positive*</i></b> way - be creative and be produced with quality, and it had to leave me with a good feeling (and a clear image) of the company that made the product.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Four others received "Honorable Mentions" from me, rating a "9" on my scale and lacking only one detail that kept it from being perfect. Nine other ads I was able to rate an "8" and I'm happy to say that of those 15 commercials I thought were the best of the bunch, 13 of them wound up in the top 20 over at the Ad Meter results page (listed above).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Here, then, are my Top 5:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>#5: Budweiser's "Simply Put" featuring Helen Mirren</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Rb2VXVmUga4" width="560"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This was one of those commercials that popped up all over social media several days before the game and the weight of its viral release nearly took it under for me, but I'm a sucker for a good actress with a British dialect and a large vocabulary. Hopefully it will bring the word "pillock" (a stupid person, but don't ask about the etymology) back into common use. And Budweiser has promised to donate $1 toward designated driver programs each time the hashtag #GiveADamn is used in promoting an end to drunk driving.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>#4: Hyundai's "First Date" featuring Kevin Hart</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-R_483zeVF8" width="560"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Personally, I find Kevin Hart's comic persona a little too abrasive but here he dials it back just enough to connect with me and I love the way the commercial ends. Couldn't give it a perfect score because I couldn't remember the name of the car (or even the manufacturer). The storyline overshadowed the feature it was trying to promote. But it came out as #1 overall so Hyundai did something right.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>#3: Honda's "A New Truck to Love" featuring music by Queen</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/kTaCT8ZmdJA" width="560"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It's got the cute factor, killer music by Queen, and a nice little twist at the end. <a href="http://adage.com/article/special-report-super-bowl/honda-s-singing-sheep-super-bowl-ad/302433/" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Ad Age Magazine</span></b></a> says the ad agency studied the facial muscles of the sheep to more perfectly form their special effect singing. The little detail that kept me from scoring it perfectly was I couldn't remember the name of the truck. It's Honda's new Ridgeline brand, by the way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>#2: Jeep's "Portraits"</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/wKn5K5V7tRo" width="420"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There seems to be that one commercial in every Super Bowl that tugs at your patriotic heartstrings. One that makes you proud you live in America. Jeep holds that title this year, marking their 75th anniversary as both a company and an American icon. It's shot in gorgeous black and white with extreme close ups that immediately engage you and make it impossible to look away. I gave it a Perfect Ten.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>#1: Audi's "Commander" featuring music by David Bowie</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/yB8tgVqmKzw" width="560"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Maybe it's the fact I have an 83-year old father. Maybe I'm still in mourning over David Bowie's death. Maybe it's the glorious production values and juxtaposition of memories over real time experience. Maybe it's that I'll never drive a $116,000 sports car. I dunno. But this ad hit all the right notes for me. I've given you the extended version here to fully appreciate it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I can't sign off without confessing I also had a real soft spot for the rewritten lyrics of Seal's "Kiss from a Rose" in this Super Bowl Babies <a href="https://youtu.be/leU-mgKfdcs" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">NFL promo spot</span></b></a>. And the extended version of the <a href="https://youtu.be/1ndPEQCoSzk" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Avocado commercial</span></b></a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And just because someone will want to know, the worst Super Bowl ad was so bad I won't link to it, but let me just say three words: Puppy Monkey Baby. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I will never be able to unsee that. Woof.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">+++++</span><br />
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<i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mark's Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without notice. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. I also greatly enjoyed "Ryanville" and the "Walken Closet" ads.</span></span></i>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-26896256993141322842015-02-21T01:20:00.000-05:002015-02-21T01:20:22.397-05:00Mark at the Movies: Kingsman - The Secret Service<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><u><b>Plot</b></u></i>: In two opening scenes, we see two British government agents dispatched in two separate incidents, one heroically and one horrifically. The film then sets about on two tracks - one follows the recruitment and training of two new agents, the other a larger story about a megalomaniac tech genius out to wipe most of humanity from the face of the Earth. But hey, it's okay because he's got a good motive - he's trying to cure climate change issues. Global warming is likened to a body's fever, which is only a symptom of the illness - the underlying virus. He sees humanity as that virus. In fact, in one scene the bad guy compares himself and his scheme to God and Noah saving the Earth by wiping out the rest of the population. Into both of these storylines comes our hero - Harry Hart (codename: Galahad, all the agents have Camelot aliases) - who sets out to redeem a mistake that got the first agent above killed (by sponsoring his son - "Eggsy" - as a possible new replacement agent) and when he's not encouraging Eggsy, he's investigating the circumstances surrounding the second agent's death, which will lead him to cross paths with Valentine the Villain. One key plot point is that Valentine insures the loyalty of his accomplices by implanting them with a microchip that causes their heads to explode should they betray him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><u><b>Players</b></u></i>: Colin Firth is nearly pitch-perfect as the Mr. Darcy-like Galahad, Samuel L. Jackson plays Valentine with whimsy, a lisp, and an unsettled stomach around bloodshed. Hardly the picture of evil you'd expect, which makes his plans all the more chilling. Taron Egerton, a fairly new Hollywood face, portrays Gary "Eggsy" Unwin, the son of the heroic Kingsman agent, who grew up in a rough neighborhood and is hardly the clean cut high class social elite type of trainee against whom he competes. Sofia Boutella, a former dancer with this her first big film, gets quite a bit of screen time as Valentine's chief henchperson, Gazelle. From the calf down, her legs and feet have been replaced with razor-sharp prosthetics which she wields to deadly (and quite graphic) precision. Mark Strong ("Merlin") is on hand as the Kingsman's tech expert, logistics expert, training expert, pilot, and man Friday. He acquits himself well in the role. Michael Caine brings his respectable skills to a smaller part as the head of the Kingsman Agency - "Arthur," of course - and clearly thinks little of young Eggsy's effort to qualify. Finally, an unrecognizable Mark Hamill has a brief early role as Professor Arnold, whom Valentine relies upon for climate change information.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><u><b>Pilot</b></u></i>: The film was directed by Matthew Vaughn, who has an X-Men movie and both "Kick Ass" movies to his credit and he is also helming the reboot of the Fantastic Four series. So, lots of experience in directing real life versions of comic book characters and stories. <i>Kingsman: The Secret Service</i> also began life as a comic book. There is, at the bottom of all the blood, mayhem, and in-your-face gore a decent message to the movie (see below), but I just cannot get past some of the directing choices he made. Here's hoping the FF reboot due out in August fares better.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><u><b>Point</b></u></i>: The film takes pains to express the thought, "Manners Maketh Man." This phrase was originally written by William Horman - an English Prep School Master in the late 1400s and early 1500s - in his book, <i>Vulgaria</i>, which was mainly Latin translations of common ("vulgar" would have been the word then) English phrases. The thought expresses an attitude of civility, respect, honor, and chivalry to which all men should aspire, and which Horman taught. And, in the end, that is the journey of transformation that "Eggsy" makes, though it is clear he came from good, honest, loyal and compassionate stock in the first place. So, like all good films, a principal character has his heart and life changed by the events of the film. That much, at least, they got right.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><u><b>Particulars</b></u></i>: The film starts out feeling very much like a parody of the "gentleman spy" popular during Sean Connery's early years as James Bond (and, indeed, that's the way the previews and the movie poster above spin it), but when a man's body is split in two - *vertically* - and you watch one half begin to slide away from the other you realize the movie has much more in common with the graphic violence, killing, maiming, bloodletting, and gore of <i>The Walking Dead</i>. At least in that show you know the zombies are dead already. Not so here. Some of the violence and mayhem you could call "stylized" - especially at the end of the movie when Valentine's implants are triggered - and some is clearly and intentionally "over the top"</span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> (Monty Python's Black Knight scene comes to mind) but there is so much of it and it is so often shoved in your face that you could, quite literally, gag on it. In fact, one man in the film does. Directly at the camera. There is one extended and traumatically brutal scene in a church, where a congregation is shot, impaled, bludgeoned, axed, stabbed, and otherwise murdered. We're allowed to see the congregation (as a stand-in) for Fred Phelphs' Westboro Baptist Church, filled with hate, prejudice, and racism - but that simply does not justify the carnage Vaughn chose to spend precious minutes of his movie upon. And - I was just talking about this with a friend the other day - there is a heavily-influenced European sensibility and comfort with cursing, profanity, and crudities. The "F-Bomb" is dropped more than 110 times! In a 129-minute movie (less 9 minutes for the closing/opening credits), that's nearly once every 60 seconds. And finally, at the end of the movie, a captive woman who promises an agent anal sex if he frees her and saves the world is seen rolling over, revealing her bare backside.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><u><b>Raymond's Rating</b></u></i>: Out of four stars, I give this film ... one-half of one star. And only because I have to give it something. If you want to wake up feeling good about yourself in the morning, stay home. As I told my wife, my brain is still cowering in the corner, hours after witnessing it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">+++</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mark's
Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without notice. Find me on
Twitter at <a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: initial;" target="_blank">http://www.twitter.com/m</a><a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">arkmusings</a>. This
blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed
as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. 1 Star=A Waste of Time; 2 Stars=Average to Poor; 3 Stars=Good and Possibly Quite Good; 4 Stars=Worth full price. 'Nuff said.</span></i></span><br />
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Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-40383023475029187902015-02-02T00:57:00.000-05:002016-02-07T23:25:14.295-05:00Favorite Super Bowl Spots<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_jDRvdwsWlislOtvrzsSZg29fZ3sJ0AV12VNrmAjf0wbkOY6jhtzj9SmqdPfsyqZyKoFta5AEZlmSAoYs8LrV8lD8LSTL8ifCUKEbSiI6ZBR-lV8laMVzNAtHk3WKsFYsNfzH/s1600/SuperBowlLogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_jDRvdwsWlislOtvrzsSZg29fZ3sJ0AV12VNrmAjf0wbkOY6jhtzj9SmqdPfsyqZyKoFta5AEZlmSAoYs8LrV8lD8LSTL8ifCUKEbSiI6ZBR-lV8laMVzNAtHk3WKsFYsNfzH/s1600/SuperBowlLogo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">61. That's the number of home runs Roger Maris hit for the New York Yankees in 1961. It's also the number of Super Bowl Commercials I viewed and rated for USA Today's Ad Meter, a consumer rating and ranking of those ads.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But only four made my list of "home runs." They scored a perfect "10" on my list. They moved me in some way, made me remember the advertiser, and even raised my respect for the company and/or product a notch or two.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A few - such as the Snickers "Brady Bunch" commercial, came with too much pre-game hype and while it was definitely a quality spot, it had been so over-exposed it didn't move me enough to bump it up to the "10" range.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There were a number of commercials that I consider to have earned an <i>Honorable Mention</i> by ranking a "9" on my scorecard. Like this very fine work by NoMore.Org, a group dedicated to stopping domestic violence:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/amsZNowt68o" width="560"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Why did I give it a "9"? The website - which is the key piece of information you need to see in that ad - is all the way at the end of a sentence that is left on the screen for an all too short a time at the very end of the spot. That address should have been up front, and that kept it from perfection.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mindy Kaling's "Invisible" ad is another one I ranked a "9" ... I thoroughly enjoyed the commercial but it didn't make a "10" because I couldn't remember who the sponsor was or what the product was. And I loved the self-parodies Pierce Brosnan and Liam Neeson did for Kia and the <i>Clash of the Clans</i> tablet/phone app, respectively. Very well done, funny, and memorable ... just not moving. They didn't make me want to go out and buy a Kia or start playing the game. By the way, here are some links to those ads.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mindy: <a href="http://youtu.be/Yrq8ruhmCX0" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;"><b>http://youtu.be/Yrq8ruhmCX0</b></span></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Pierce: <span style="color: red;"><b><a href="http://youtu.be/SPZXuJiWsf0" target="_blank">http://youtu.be/SPZXuJiWsf0</a></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Liam: <span style="color: red;"><b><a href="http://youtu.be/R2zWUX9diVw" target="_blank">http://youtu.be/R2zWUX9diVw</a></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> The Kim Kardashian self-parody for T-Mobile simply reminded me that no one really knows why she's a celebrity. Hated it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But you didn't come here to read about the runner-ups. Here, then, are the four ads I picked as having "knocked it out of the park" in terms of hitting all the right emotional notes, memorability, and persuasiveness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">#4: <i>Fiat's Blue Pill</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7lcc62nrl9Y" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It was funny, it was whimsical, it was full of impossible physics, and the ending brought it back full circle, with a perfect little epilogue. And all throughout, the little blue Fiat logo (not coincidental, I assure you)<i> </i>hid up in the right corner, letting us know this was all about a car. Loved it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">#3: <i>Budweiser's Lost Dog</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/otCxSnu_HXA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This is actually another one that received a lot of media attention prior to the game, but I loved it, anyway. The Anheuser-Busch ad agency started a story last Super Bowl (called "Puppy Love") about an unlikely dog-horse best friendship. And it worked. Still does. I'm raising a glass to you, Budweiser, and I love your Clydesdales. P.S. - *hated* all your other commercials this year. P.S.S. - the band behind that beautiful cover of "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" is called <i>Sleeping At Last. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">#2: <i>McDonald's Pay With Lovin'</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/i4I501Grskc" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I recently read that McDonald's hired a new CEO to restore the company's failing reputation. If this is his first salvo toward renovating that storied franchise, I'm excited about what might yet be coming. The spot was creative, affirming, and made me want to go eat there again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">#1: <i>Always' Like A Girl</i></span><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/yIxA3o84syY" width="560"></iframe><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I'll tell you what, I am thoroughly a man, but this commercial makes me want to go out and buy their feminine hygiene products<i> </i>just to support the flippin' company. For me, it was the most impressive ad of the evening.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So there you have it. And in case any of you were wondering, my pick for worst commercial of this year's Super Bowl (and possibly the entire decade) was the one created for LocTite Glue. It was so bad I won't even link to it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">You can see all 62 commercials (apparently I missed one), at the <b><span style="color: red;"><a href="http://admeter.usatoday.com/results/2015" target="_blank">Ad Meter</a></span></b> site.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">+++</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mark's Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without notice. Find me on Twitter at <a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888;" target="_blank">http://www.twitter.com/m</a><a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">arkmusings</a>. This
blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed
as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. I also greatly enjoyed Mophie's "All Powerless" and the two Esurance spots.</span></i></span>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-80907370089948246792014-11-27T00:47:00.004-05:002014-11-27T00:47:34.028-05:00Living with Pop, or My Non-Travels with Dad (Part the First)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Xco4tHynjMp88BfNDrjZQDykDzNs6NQF3zrRJSQcgNa1UxbBtGILPnEKlSKNK9YcaUFnvShXhHuna1MVzWUKeCuxs13Ahqbz9bJtrbVv55IF4fRQRG8gmexT5C7HZjYGtdDA/s1600/DSCF1857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Xco4tHynjMp88BfNDrjZQDykDzNs6NQF3zrRJSQcgNa1UxbBtGILPnEKlSKNK9YcaUFnvShXhHuna1MVzWUKeCuxs13Ahqbz9bJtrbVv55IF4fRQRG8gmexT5C7HZjYGtdDA/s1600/DSCF1857.JPG" height="320" width="294" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><i>Dad and I in the Poison Garden of Blarney Castle, Ireland.</i></span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So sometime in late September, my father calls to say he's thinking about buying some property in Florida and once again taking up a "Snowbird" lifestyle, which he and Mom laid aside when they sold their winter retreat in Texas over a decade ago. Last year's harsh winter here in Michigan used up just about all the patience he had for dealing with snow, cold, ice, and miserable conditions. <i>(Mine, too, actually, but he's in a position where he can actually do something about it.)</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">That was on a Thursday or Friday. He asks me to check the Internet for some possibilities and lays out some search parameters for me. On Monday he calls to tell me he thinks he found a place, and<i> </i>would I look into it. On Tuesday he calls to tell me he put in an offer for the place and later that day he lets me know that, after a little dickering, his offer was accepted. On Thursday we fly down to Florida for the onsite inspection before the actual purchase, but he's impressed with the place. Papers are signed, money changes hands, and he is now the proud owner of *two* homesteads. It was a whirlwind purchase, but like <i>Game of Thrones,</i> "winter is coming" and he's ready to bolt from Michigan's "Winter Wonderland" to Florida's "Sunshine State." Plans are made to move in early November and because I can - what with my own retirement upon me these days - we make plans for me to help him with the move and get settled in over the course of about three weeks together.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">And therein begins my tale. After several trips together, many of which were documented here in this blog <i>(note: click the label "Travels with Dad" to read about them)</i>, my father and I have finally figured out how to travel well together. What we have not necessarily figured out yet is how to <i><b>*not*</b></i> travel together. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">We have - just like any other parent/child relationship, I suppose - almost completely different tastes in music, art, literature, entertainment, hobbies, and general lifestyles. We are both a product and a reflection of the respective cultural soups in which we grew up and currently swim. He likes "classic" country music, I like anything but. <i>(Well, okay, I can also live quite happily without most rap, hip-hop, heavy metal, and electronica. Which means the "oldies" preset on my car radio gets pushed a lot.)</i> He reads westerns, I read science fiction. He hasn't been to a movie theater in years, I go once every couple of weeks. He watches news, documentaries, history, and travel on the television. I watch prime time TV shows on the networks and cable <i>(hardly ever live, though; when I watch TV, it's usually something we've recorded on the DVR -- can't stand commercials)</i>. He has zero interest in sports, I am a passionate baseball fan. He wades in the Internet ocean, I spend much of my time submerged in it. He is usually in bed by 8:00 p.m. and up by 5:00 a.m. ... I'm usually up into the wee hours of the morning and sleep in with my wife (who works second shift) until around 10:00 a.m., when my schedule allows.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I won't lie to you, these differences made spending any length of time together problematic, at first. Those early days on the road with each other were tough. But we finally learned how to compromise. Dad compromised by not expecting me to live on his time schedule. I compromised by doing my best to live on that very schedule. And somewhere in the middle we learned how to extend grace to each other, something that was surely only possible because of the grace we've both experienced from Christ Jesus.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">On the road, when we have a common agenda, a common destination, and a common delight in discovering new places, we now click together and run like a well-oiled machine. This past month - spending three weeks together without those commonalities - well, our differences were magnified. The incompatibilities were not muted by a common purpose. And that leads me to "Part the Second...."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">+++</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mark's Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without notice. Find me on Twitter at <a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888;" target="_blank">http://www.twitter.com/m</a><a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">arkmusings</a>. This
blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed
as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. Above I said my father "wades" in the Internet ... he just went in up to his knees when, a few days ago, he established a Twitter account. Follow @oldgeezer82fla.</span></i></span>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-52728635334721820612014-11-03T20:46:00.000-05:002014-11-03T20:46:34.072-05:00R.I.P. Big Red<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7FXb2fZ8IjByatjnbsbKDycFxuvBC-UerDWRKWr7n0ceFREA5ky20ZvsBalPKbCp-ZgCwQrgC2HLhoIKc1K-r6o2I5KhZv8-PgqH-VNyXaoPPCkvJDYnjNppbvA1c2CHW-ycZ/s1600/RedSuitcase.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7FXb2fZ8IjByatjnbsbKDycFxuvBC-UerDWRKWr7n0ceFREA5ky20ZvsBalPKbCp-ZgCwQrgC2HLhoIKc1K-r6o2I5KhZv8-PgqH-VNyXaoPPCkvJDYnjNppbvA1c2CHW-ycZ/s1600/RedSuitcase.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>A facsimile of "Big Red"</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Back in the day, when I was a Rock Star for the Postal Service (well, at least in my own mind), I was on the road a lot; very familiar with airports and baggage carousels. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I remember one fateful trip, waiting for my suitcase to come sliding down the chute at Reagan National in DC, when I see a crumpled, broken suitcase take the carousel turn, and I wonder who the unlucky chump was that had his tiger-print underwear on display for the whole world.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Turns out it was me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Gathering up what I could, I carried my bag to the nearest accessories kiosk, purchased a bungee cord, and wrapped the thing up as well as I could for the trip to my hotel. The next afternoon, as soon as I left work, it was off to find some kind of mall or department store that sold luggage. Thank goodness DC has a good mass transportation system. My travel stipend in no way included a rental car or any extra cab fare.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To make a long story well, even longer, I found one that set me back less than $100, which was still a lot of money in those days. And now, having witnessed the - literally - thousands of unassuming black suitcases that all looked like they were trying to be the twin of every other black suitcase in the cargo hold, I wanted to get something different. Something that would, at the very least, stand out a little bit as it traveled the carousels and quietly proclaimed it was NOT like those other run-of-the-mill black suitcases. That was when I bought "Big Red."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It was the largest piece of luggage I had ever owned. And it was, I think, the first piece of luggage I ever purchased with wheels. What an idea *that* was. I don't know who it was, but someone once quipped, <i>"How is it we put a man on the moon before we figured out that putting wheels on luggage was a good idea?"</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Big Red, folks, has seen a lot. It's been to Alaska three times, Chicago twice, Nova Scotia, Ireland, California, Oklahoma, all over Florida and, of course, Washington DC. He's been in cars, on cruise ships, on trains, and on more airplanes and jets than I can count. And at nearly every stop, when Big Red and I were reunited after having traveled separately, he would return to me with a shiny new piece of adhesive: a big red or bright blue tag warning, "HEAVY."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There was, you see, a reason I call him "Big Red."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Well, tonight, as my father and I are once more sojourning forth on the road from Michigan to Florida (where he has purchased some "snowbird" property and we are moving him in), Big Red's zipper failed him. Can't get it open at one end anymore. The teeth have separated and the zipper itself has pulled away from the rest of the luggage. I can get at my stuff, but only like you'd clean out a pumpkin: from the top, reaching in and pulling out all the inside bits.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So tomorrow, when we arrive at my Dad's new place, Big Red will be emptied one final time, and I will say some grateful words while giving him an appreciative pat, and I will leave him at the curb with the rest of the trash.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Acquired: Washington DC, mid-1990s.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Passed Away: Bowling Green, Kentucky, 2014.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Buried: Somewhere in Zephyrhills, Florida **</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">+++</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mark's Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without notice. Find me on Twitter at <a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888;" target="_blank">http://www.twitter.com/m</a><a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">arkmusings</a>. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. ** Unless, of course, some scavenger who drives around on trash pickup days trolling for things that may still have some shelf life (or could, with a little TLC) finds Big Red first.</span></i></span>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-47151662760040463492014-10-22T22:38:00.000-04:002014-10-22T22:38:28.528-04:00Mark at the Movies: The Judge<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbSdcbcXggkiw8Ht0GJ2JwyZjL7ZNBhSm0TszZzEJmGfcaYtjdd7lauty-MayJ8VRbQQXBnCtDkJAD_CdkMgSQfV8SR7LFqVp_c6mBGd2-JfYaOCH1r035ch2mbRnW-DFVCjvp/s1600/TheJudgeMovie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbSdcbcXggkiw8Ht0GJ2JwyZjL7ZNBhSm0TszZzEJmGfcaYtjdd7lauty-MayJ8VRbQQXBnCtDkJAD_CdkMgSQfV8SR7LFqVp_c6mBGd2-JfYaOCH1r035ch2mbRnW-DFVCjvp/s1600/TheJudgeMovie.jpg" height="163" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><i><b>Robert Downey, Jr. and Robert Duvall</b></i></span></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><u><b>Plot</b></u><b>:</b> Hank Palmer (Downey Jr.), a highly successful if decidedly amoral defense attorney and estranged son of Judge Joseph Palmer, returns from the big city to his small town roots when his mother passes away. There he must deal with an angry and unforgiving father (Duvall) as well as his two brothers, who have their own history with Hank. Intending to stay just the one night for the funeral, his time at home is extended when his father is accused of murder the next morning. The balance of the movie is a riveting mix of trial testimony, dysfunctional family dynamics, and back stories that ultimately portray a deep story of forgiveness and family.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><u><b>Players</b></u><b>:</b> Robert Downey, Jr. plumbs familiar character ground as Hank. Robert Duvall is his usual gem as the titular Judge. Vincent D'Onofrio plays brother Glen with a quiet pain and grace. Vera Farmiga is Hank's old flame, Samantha Powell, now owner of a local tavern. Jeremy Strong gives an understated performance (and serves as mild comic relief) as Hank's mentally-challenged brother, Dale. Billy Bob Thornton is on hand in his slick corporate guise as the prosecuting attorney, with Ken Howard as the judge presiding over the murder trial and Emma Trembley is Hank's daughter, Lauren. Finally, Dax Shepard also lends some light comedy as naive and part-time attorney C.P. Kennedy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><u><b>Pilot</b></u><b>:</b> David Dobkin directed and co-wrote the story with main screenwriter Nick Schenk. Schenk was also the main writer of <i>Gran Torino,</i> so he is experienced at writing complicated drama and relationships. Dobkin previously directed <i>Wedding Crashers, The Change-Up, and Shanghai Knights,</i> all comedies and action comedies. This appears to be his first effort at helming a straight-up drama.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><u><b>Performance</b></u><b>:</b> The thing that stands out right away is that Robert Downey, Jr. is either completely incapable of portraying a "Joe Everyday" character, or is brilliantly using his well-known (and well-worn) cinema persona of a rich, smart, compassionate, snarky and often condescending jerk and making it work in a real-world setting (as opposed to the Marvel or Arthur Conan Doyle Universes). This is a Robert Downey, Jr. we all know and, mostly, love. It works in counterpoint to the small Midwest town (a fictional Carlinville, Indiana) in which the movie is set, but it was hardly breaking new ground for the actor. Duvall, on the other hand, has gotten crusty old codgers down to a "t" and while his, too, is a character we've seen before, he plays it with such integrity and nuance that it's like seeing an old friend. The heart of the movie is the relationship between these two and in the end, you respect them both. This is <i><b>not</b></i> an action movie, it is an actor's movie.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><u><b>Point</b></u><b>:</b> I very nearly felt that this movie was a complicated and mixed retelling of the Gospel's Prodigal Son story, if the bitter brother who stayed home and the forgiving father traded places. In the end, it is a movie and a message that is life-affirming, family strong (but not family-friendly), and reminds us that no matter how far we go, there's always a place called home, filled with the people who know us and love us best.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><u><b>Particulars</b></u><b>:</b> The film earns its "R" rating through its language - including more than two dozen "f-bombs" - with a liberal use of vulgarities and reflects a people who don't spend much time in church. There is one quite uncomfortable scene in which Hank is helping his father deal with the after-effects of a medical treatment, and it's not pretty. Both Hank and his second, C.P. Kennedy, throw up on the courtroom lawn several times before entering. And while sex is talked about and a couple of frank (but not graphic) makeout sessions occur, there is no nudity.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><u><b>Raymond's Rating</b></u><b>:</b> I give <i>The Judge</i> three out of four stars. If the language had been toned down even a little, and had Downey produced a character other than an angry and petulant Tony Stark, I would have gone the whole four. At two hours and twenty-two minutes, it's a long film but there was so much story to be told - all of it intricate to understanding the relationships involved - that I didn't mind.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">+++</span><br />
<br />
<i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mark's
Musings is published on an occasional basis but that may change without notice. Find me on
Twitter at <a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: initial;" target="_blank">http://www.twitter.com/m</a><a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">arkmusings</a>. This
blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed
as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. "I choose you." You'll see.</span></i>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-82467990298682278602014-06-17T00:22:00.001-04:002014-06-17T00:23:04.561-04:00Diabetics: We Can Rebuild You<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirLbVTuGNfJxUN2hbtwx5JAyOg3eneKa1XeW1MnEnmbSseUITDZy72cko-Xbpdi1vbbt3rsR9pYPxp_nFUBqRzHoIAPRMPeUGPO2HDvN89eF0eKrpCyN27aYaFuAEgfB0Z-Rn1/s1600/AnnaFloreenBionicPancreas.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirLbVTuGNfJxUN2hbtwx5JAyOg3eneKa1XeW1MnEnmbSseUITDZy72cko-Xbpdi1vbbt3rsR9pYPxp_nFUBqRzHoIAPRMPeUGPO2HDvN89eF0eKrpCyN27aYaFuAEgfB0Z-Rn1/s1600/AnnaFloreenBionicPancreas.png" height="320" width="218" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Image courtesy of HuffPo Healthy Living</span></i></b></td></tr>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">What I saw today around the world and the web:</span></i></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Medicine has now given those with Type 1 Diabetes Mellitus a fighting chance to not obsess over their disease. According to the New England Journal of Medicine, a combination of an under-the-skin glucometer, a hard-wired bionic pancreas, and an iPhone - of all things - can be used in combination to effectively lift most of the burden of the disease. The original article is <a href="http://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJMoa1314474#t=article" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">here</span></b></a> and a more reader-friendly version is <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/riva-greenberg/diabetes-clinical-trial_b_3110140.html" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">here</span></b></a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In a nutshell, the glucometer constantly monitors your blood-sugars and sends a wireless signal to the iPhone, which then tells the bionic pancreas - which consists of both insulin for when sugars go too high and glucagon for when they dip too low - which component to send into the bloodstream. No more finger pricks, no more insulin needles, no more worry about crashing after a workout at the gym or a brisk walk or going too long in between meals.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm sure it will be some time before the product becomes commercially viable, affordable, and/or covered by insurance ... but it's good to know there is hope for my fellow diabetics.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I've always felt that diabetes was, in some respects, like cancer. There is no cure for it, only treatments, and in the end it will kill you just as surely. We know enough about it and have fairly good treatments that it does not need to define who we are, and for sure it doesn't carry the stigma and emotional weight of The Big C, but it is becoming a larger and larger problem in the world - especially for Americans and our consumptive lifestyles.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">THIRD WORLD PROBLEMS</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></b>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">While folks here in the U.S. worry about which venue they will use to watch the U.S. Soccer team take on Ghana in the World Cup. Cable television? Online? Smartphone? Meanwhile, folks in Ghana are worrying about if their country will have <a href="http://qz.com/221596/ghana-is-rationing-electricity-to-make-sure-people-can-watch-todays-world-cup-match-against-the-us/" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">enough electricity</span></b></a> to power enough televisions to watch the contest. Apparently most of the electrical power in the country comes from hydroelectric plants and there has been a water shortage recently.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">If this doesn't clearly define the difference between "First World Problems" and "Third World Problems," I don't know what will.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">+++++</span><br />
<br />
<i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mark's Musings is published on a semi-periodical basis that may change without notice. Find me on Twitter at <a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.twitter.com/m</a><a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">arkmusings</a>. Facebook link is over there to the right. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. Just a couple of little things today.</span></i>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-70603004408400601402014-04-20T09:20:00.001-04:002014-11-03T20:46:54.553-05:00Impressions and More of Ireland<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgba-fUedOExaBa-B8w7eflHJAP9La_ruOygSV-OG5zbSRWnQu6GYRxvlY0Lql11ytxlw36Bm7YiewtRcuVXRqvWXB0n2vZZ8Grj1FFY9DaOZ3vdt1wjBPsrRa0pYYFDbI6R8ha/s1600/DunamaseRockRuinsFromInside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgba-fUedOExaBa-B8w7eflHJAP9La_ruOygSV-OG5zbSRWnQu6GYRxvlY0Lql11ytxlw36Bm7YiewtRcuVXRqvWXB0n2vZZ8Grj1FFY9DaOZ3vdt1wjBPsrRa0pYYFDbI6R8ha/s1600/DunamaseRockRuinsFromInside.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">From inside The Rock at Dunamase (Dunamase Castle).</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As Dad and I prepare to fly back to the U.S. this Easter afternoon, here are some impressions, thoughts - and with Dad's input, as well - some tips and tricks for traveling here.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">First off, the people are grand. You will not meet a kinder nor more polite population than we have encountered.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Secondly, it's gorgeous here. The fields are nearly all partitioned off into neat squares with stone fences, hedge rows, or tree lines. You will see more sheep, cows, and green, green grass than ever you will at home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ireland seems to have figured out that the rest of the world is entranced and enthralled by the old and the religious, and they have both in abundance here. The artifacts, historical sites, and religious icons all call to something deep inside our souls to which we have to respond. I think it's part of the charm of this "Emerald Isle" that will keep calling us back to it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now, on to more mundane observations.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Irish brogue, or dialect, is such an easy and comfortable way of talking that by the end of the week you find yourself falling into it without even trying. Beware that you don't accidentally offend a native, lest they think you are mocking them. With that in mind, here are a few translations I've noticed:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Grand" = Good. Fine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Brilliant" = Very good. Excellent.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"No Worries" = You're Welcome.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"No Problem" = You're Welcome.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"That's No Problem at All" = I'll take care of that right away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Petrol" = Gas.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Slip Road" = On or Off Ramp from a motorway.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Motorway" = Divided highway.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Ramp" = In Ireland, a ramp is a wide, large speed bump. They are strategically placed to keep traffic from reaching a breakneck speed in the neighborhoods. The Irish do like to drive fast.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ireland does have signs on the side of the road, but they also paint the roadway with directions, warnings about upcoming ramps, and times you should go slow. And they will often paint which lane goes to which road, designating them with the different Regional or National road numbers. (Such as N-50, with an arrow.) You read these painted road signs from the bottom to top. Not top to bottom, as you would if it was a vertical sign. And there is never a right turn on a red light, such as we have in America. Here, red means stop and stay stopped until you get the green.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5kj5BaP0kSGlSSq5_P2E0k8oK8PCNMkV2aFAKpIcMsGtm48QavuORBi8hmme05SZaltcm4JVKD8X8r9BY5QBsKhKGEd3M9ltewx8hIntefbSVvGRFnjImdzsUfq8f0II5c686/s1600/IrishRoundabout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5kj5BaP0kSGlSSq5_P2E0k8oK8PCNMkV2aFAKpIcMsGtm48QavuORBi8hmme05SZaltcm4JVKD8X8r9BY5QBsKhKGEd3M9ltewx8hIntefbSVvGRFnjImdzsUfq8f0II5c686/s1600/IrishRoundabout.jpg" height="198" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A word about roundabouts. In the United States, we use electronic controls (traffic lights) or 4-way stop signs to manage intersections. In Ireland, traffic light use is generally reserved only for the larger cities and villages. And the intersections are nearly all controlled by something called a roundabout, which I'm sure you've either heard of or seen in the movies. A roundabout is a large, circular piece of cement - usually grass covered and pretty - set smack dab in the middle of the intersection, around which traffic flows. Roundabouts have no stop signs, only Yield signage. So, essentially, at Irish intersections traffic never stops. Barely even slows down. You enter the roundabout and go around until you reach the road you want. If you miss it, go around again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Personally, I think roundabouts are brilliant and possibly the greatest form of controlled chaos I've ever seen. I wish we used them more here in the States. They have only recently begun to become popular with American traffic engineers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The toilets. That's what they are called in Ireland. Not bathroom, not washroom (as they are called in Canada), and not W.C. or water closet. Ask where the toilets are. Most of them work the same way they do in the states. You pull a handle or push a button and the thing flushes. But one or two of them - in our hotels, at least - worked on the pump method. You pump the handle until enough water is in the tank to flush it. And many of the more modern toilets have *two* buttons. A small one and a larger one. The small one is what you use if all you are flushing is, umm, a water-based byproduct. The larger button is used to dispose of solid waste.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Washcloths. Also called face cloths. Irish hotels, for whatever reason (I could not divine one, though I asked Mr. Google for help), rarely if ever provide face cloths. You get a luxurious bath towel, a large hand towel ... and that's it. Pack a few and something to stash them in for traveling when they are wet. Dad and I stayed in five different hotels - four and five star resorts, mind you - and only *one* provided washcloths.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Irish city, town, and village names. Do <i style="font-weight: bold;">not</i> try to pronounce them. You will only end up sounding as though you are deep in your cups which, come to think of it, may be how the Irish came up with the names in the first place. The way the alphabet works here is not like any other language I've seen and what research I've done indicates it would be easier to train my cat to use the toilet than to try and reprogram my brain to learn the different pronunciations of the consonant and vowel sets here. Your best bet? Ask someone who lives here how to say the names.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I would highly recommend getting a cell phone (called a mobile here and in pretty much the rest of the world), and having it set up for international use. Being able to make a phone call from the road - especially during one of the times we got lost - would have been incredibly helpful, but neither one of us had an internationally-capable cell.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">OTHER TIPS FROM DAD AND I:</span></b><br />
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<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There is very little in the way of what we'd call "fast food" in Ireland. I think we saw maybe three places with a drive-through window. If you'll not be eating at the hotel, you will generally need to eat at a public house (called a pub). And they usually do, in fact, look just like someone's home, only they've been made into a bar/restaurant on the inside.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Take about twice as much money as you think you'll need. An American dollar is only worth about 65 cents in Ireland. In the south of the island - where most of the tourist traffic is - they use Euros. If you're going to travel to Northern Island, you'll be using British pounds. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We found food to be our biggest expense, which was surprising to us. We had thought that gas - about $8.00 a gallon here - would be our largest expense, but we only had to fill the tank once and top it off before returning it to the rental agency. Diesel engines are very common and popular in Ireland and from our experience, they get *great* gas mileage. You just have to make sure you give the engine enough "revs." See my blog post from <a href="http://mrhumornet.blogspot.ie/2014/04/travels-with-dad-connemara-kylemore.html" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">earlier this week</span></b></a>. And to be sure - petrol stations are <b>few and far between</b>. Gas up when the tank approaches half-empty.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Bottled water. There are two types here. "Still" water and "Sparkling" water. Still water is what you are used to buying in the states. Sparkling water is pumped with carbonation and fizzies. It's what you might mix with fruit juice.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Bring a rain coat. And layered clothing. Dad and I enjoyed remarkably mild and sunny weather this week. I even got a sunburn. Twice! But we're told that Spring weather is wildly changeable and gray skies with cool, wet weather is common.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">If you're going to be driving, a Global Positioning System (GPS) is <u>not</u> a luxury. It is an absolute necessity. However, as you know if you've been reading the last few posts, it is fallible. So don't depend on it entirely. Nevertheless, we could not have had the trip we did without. It was, in fact, worth twice what we paid to rent the thing. Road signs that tell you where you are or what road you're turning onto are nearly nonexistent.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Most everything here uses the metric system, so if you're used to feet and miles, get to know the conversion factors pretty well. You'll need to be comfortable with kilometers and meters and how far that is to know what you're doing.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A good pair of walking shoes is essential. If you're on your own, you'll walk a lot. If you're with a tour group, you'll walk a lot. If you visit Dublin, you'll walk A LOT. So wear comfortable yet rugged footwear.</span></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So that's it. I am finishing this in the Dublin airport as we wait to catch our flight home. I hope this edition of "Travels with Dad" was worth your time reading it and, if you do get to go to Ireland, I hope you have as much fun and make as many memories as we did, and I hope what I've written here helps.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">At least a little.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">+++++</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"></span><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mark's Musings is published on a semi-periodical basis that may change without notice. Find me on Twitter at <a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.twitter.com/m</a><a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">arkmusings</a>. Facebook link is over there to the right. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. A week ago Friday, we left Chicago at 8:00 p.m., arrived in Ireland at 9:00 Saturday morning. Today we leave Ireland at 3:45 p.m., and arrive in Chicago at 6:05 Sunday evening. Time zones are a funny ol' thing.</span></i></span>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-35199459477495502872014-04-19T17:40:00.000-04:002014-11-03T20:47:11.854-05:00Travels with Dad: Trouble in Dublin<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwN3z_iXVM6ooS05p1uq9foE7GllO8l1a4vpsJOOI8FKojQ3sUKDyJyRAO6GpegEZN0Fae_6cxX4bKk2cTk5r0DLQy7YIFyh3LEI57cUzuQwPOHt9wVLMfPnEUWEleNB8FO7jJ/s1600/WaterfordRiverwalkSeatOfWisdom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwN3z_iXVM6ooS05p1uq9foE7GllO8l1a4vpsJOOI8FKojQ3sUKDyJyRAO6GpegEZN0Fae_6cxX4bKk2cTk5r0DLQy7YIFyh3LEI57cUzuQwPOHt9wVLMfPnEUWEleNB8FO7jJ/s1600/WaterfordRiverwalkSeatOfWisdom.jpg" height="292" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We left Waterford in good spirits, as you can see. Dad's wisdom with his finances and life choices are certainly the driving force in bringing us to Ireland for this once-in-a-lifetime trip. I owe him so much.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We also left Waterford with a small sense of melancholy, knowing that we had just one last night here on the Emerald Isle. Our mission today was to return our rented wheelchair, and make time for one last tourist stop in Dublin. And the two-hour trip began well, with over 100 kilometres of M-road (4-lane divided expressway).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I have to admit I was looking forward to tackling the roads of Dublin once again. The last time I had been here I had basically been up for about 30 hours straight and was operating a right-hand drive vehicle from the left-hand side of the road for the first time. It was, to say the least, NOT fun. So now, fully awake and aware, I wanted a second crack at driving in Dublin.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oh, what a fool I was.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Things started out well enough. Thanks to our trusty GPS and memory of having been in the area once before when we rented the wheelchair, we had no issues finding the place again and returning the chair. We didn't use it often, it turned out, because most of the attractions we stopped to see had a better one they let us borrow, but it was good to have along. And bonus! We found out, with a little exploring, that our GPS had attractions and hotels preprogrammed, so we didn't have to rely on trying to find an Ireland street address from Google or some other resource.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So with our confidence high, we set out to find the Dublin Zoo. I didn't recall any of my friends having been there and thought it would be a good day - the weather was still very sunny, mild, and mid-60s here - to kill a few hours before heading out to our hotel in County Meath.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The first sign that something was going to go wrong was that all the handicap parking spaces near the front entrance were full. A sign said there was "more handicap parking in rear." So we set out to find the rear. Turns out the Dublin Zoo is not just big, it is HUGE. We could not find the rear. With both hands. Wound up driving into Phoenix Park, watching the joggers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Finding a place to pull off, we then programmed our GPS for Trinity College in downtown Dublin, hoping to see the <a href="http://www.visitdublin.com/Asset/see_and_do/visitor_attractions/Book_of_Kells" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Book of Kells</span></b></a>, which was highly recommended by friends back home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now, a word about Dublin. On Saturday. On Easter weekend. Driving through downtown Dublin in those conditions is like trying to drive through the crowd at Woodstock. It is not impossible, but it is nearly so. Every person in Dublin was out today, I swear. And they all decided to ignore the pedestrian crossings, en masse, at once. By the time we made it to Trinity College, my nerves were half shot. The next problem was parking. There was none that we could see. Anywhere near Trinity College.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Before we arrived, I had read online that there was no need to drive in Dublin. Public transportation was inexpensive and plentiful. And, in fact, having seen the city I now believe it is best viewed on your own two feet. You can walk nearly everywhere you need to go. However, when you travel with an 81-year old companion who can barely manage three city blocks before needing a moment to catch his breath, you drive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So we drove to Trinity College but the nearest car park we found was blocks and blocks away. At a downtown shopping mall. We made the best of what was quickly turning into a bad situation. We found a restaurant and had some lunch. This mall, by the way, was the only place in Ireland we had found both a Burger King and a KFC. We had passed a couple of McDonald's, but saw no other fast food the entire previous week.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Well, by now it was time to head out to our hotel in County Meath, about half an hour west of Dublin. So we programmed the GPS and set out through the narrow, congested streets of Dublin once again.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ZUgTDYg5P_irsBfJoA7qeeOB53UAlplzaWmU7zaZWU4kWEMMP7ePPZgAR9Lbhv6xrBh5j0VJzutK2w6mnJkXX-Wmt8iZVCOuHMddxGWzdCv7VMXhZNsb6QI7DiMT9kbWnkb2/s1600/MarkAfterDublinDriving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ZUgTDYg5P_irsBfJoA7qeeOB53UAlplzaWmU7zaZWU4kWEMMP7ePPZgAR9Lbhv6xrBh5j0VJzutK2w6mnJkXX-Wmt8iZVCOuHMddxGWzdCv7VMXhZNsb6QI7DiMT9kbWnkb2/s1600/MarkAfterDublinDriving.jpg" height="200" width="168" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">What we hadn't counted on was construction that blocked streets, diverted traffic, and generally made a total confusion out of our poor GPS, which was "recalculating" about every second block. So my Dad is telling me one direction, the GPS is saying a different direction, we wound up going the wrong way down a one-way street, and then the engine warning light comes on again - a different one this time. By the time we left Dublin, this is how I felt (see photo).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I had one nerve left. And then the GPS unit robbed me of that. To reach County Meath, you have to pay a toll right before your exit. We did that, then proceeded to the exit indicated by the GPS. We went through the first roundabout per instructions, then went through the second roundabout exactly as it told us to - only to find ourselves BACK ON THE TOLL ROAD, headed in the opposite direction. And even though we made an appeal for leniency, we had to pay the (insert appropriate adjective) toll again. To add insult to injury, the GPS told us our destination was "300 meters ahead, on the left." About where the toll booths were.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So it was once again time to play "Pin the Tourist on the Hotel." We blindfolded our GPS and went in search of our lodgings through the gorgeous Irish countryside. By this time my teeth were grinding so badly I could have chewed my way through a concrete block and had a box of nails for dessert.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We spotted a petrol station. Dad went in to ask directions to find a very lovely and polite woman from India behind the counter who spoke only a little broken English. She took us over to the attached barber shop where ... we could not find the proprietor. But there was an older woman there, sitting under a dryer and reading a magazine. She pointed toward the door in the back. I waited. Dad went in search of other help.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We both found someone who could give us directions at about the same time. A few minutes later, we got back in the car and compared notes only to discover the directions that each man gave were <i style="font-weight: bold;">in the complete opposite direction from one another.</i> My guy had an Irish brogue, Dad's guy had a Jamaican accent. So I trusted my gut and we followed the Irish guy's orders.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Thank God for Irishmen who know their way around the county. About 20 minutes later, we were at our hotel, despite some misgivings and a couple of disagreements with each other about how to get there and exactly which road(s) to take out of the roundabouts.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLbByrntsFCbdReISqMg7rxprsOY1ZdZInnWb6xcqasFQuzy8Jy7v1pNGCGYEd-kU5mUgX4W9EmBexMnE8bnoZVEh6GG1_E7YB1NO66UvnVj2yOQc3G0d-C5sNTi3MELuTYSY4/s1600/Johnstown+House.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLbByrntsFCbdReISqMg7rxprsOY1ZdZInnWb6xcqasFQuzy8Jy7v1pNGCGYEd-kU5mUgX4W9EmBexMnE8bnoZVEh6GG1_E7YB1NO66UvnVj2yOQc3G0d-C5sNTi3MELuTYSY4/s1600/Johnstown+House.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So this is the Johnstown House Hotel and Spa. A lovely facility situated pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Or so it seemed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The restaurant on the site was completely booked for the entire evening so our porter told us about a pub just down the road that was fairly inexpensive and had good food. He was right on both counts and it came as close as Dad has come to being in a genuine Irish pub. Too bad there wasn't a band tonight.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And yes, I had a stiff drink.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">+++++</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"></span><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mark's Musings is published on a semi-periodical basis that may change without notice. Find me on Twitter at <a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.twitter.com/m</a><a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">arkmusings</a>. Facebook link is over there to the right. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. Tomorrow: The flight home.</span></i></span>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-7895103973634644282014-04-18T19:52:00.000-04:002014-11-03T20:47:24.185-05:00Travels with Dad: Waterford Wonders<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBcCcN7cS7c3oEOuYLSid-zVSBKWu7ahYC-4eSNuzkHoNIDfxgSjwtQrZ3HSjAtaRRcDzM4RkWLFgpwHEZmNr9xRtK_FyiOBITfOIiyaXa8-xP7aXie3mQza4T8GxVYvNQaHn/s1600/WaterfordCrystalDadShowingTwoCuts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBcCcN7cS7c3oEOuYLSid-zVSBKWu7ahYC-4eSNuzkHoNIDfxgSjwtQrZ3HSjAtaRRcDzM4RkWLFgpwHEZmNr9xRtK_FyiOBITfOIiyaXa8-xP7aXie3mQza4T8GxVYvNQaHn/s1600/WaterfordCrystalDadShowingTwoCuts.jpg" height="320" width="252" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: blue;">Dad showing two basic glass cuts.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As I may have mentioned yesterday, it was the highlight of the trip for Dad today, and an incredibly educational experience for me, as well, watching how this exquisite and world-renowned crystal is created from start to finish. I have put pretty much the entire process on my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/MarksMusings" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Facebook Page</span></b></a>, for any interested parties.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The photo at the top is of Dad holding a glass that demonstrates the two basic glass cuts used in Waterford Crystal: The flat cut (the oval shapes on top) and the diamond cut (the bottom, Lismore Design).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The crystal works here have had a long and bankruptcy-filled history. The business was started by the Penrose Brothers in the late 1700s, who made their fortune selling salt-pork to the shipping industry. They realized that Ireland was one of the few countries that had no tax on exporting luxury items, and the amount of raw natural resources was plentiful for making glass, so they were off and running. They made a fortune and built a strong reputation for themselves but in 1851 Ireland passed a massive luxury goods tax and, seeing they could make no real profit anymore, closed the business. It lay dormant as a company for nearly 100 years.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In 1950 a Czech glass-blower bought up the assets and began making glass again. As there were no qualified glass cutters in Ireland at the time, he brought in countryman Miroslav Havel, who designed the Lismore pattern, which is still in use today and is the bulk of the company's retail focus. At that time the company began an apprenticeship program. Apprentice glass cutters would study for five years, at the end of which they were given three attempts to recreate what is called "The Apprentice Bowl." (Photo to right) This bowl</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kdRd5B7X4aewXfhjUsFi96b0ZQKKz2xhoh9Tr-5xRQq2IBoL9-1ae-JAH4Xi10phwTeG5aqwU87VMHnEgv4k7OakDeUSTdhWLD1sA7G7gdfIkqfcu6kSr_nXHexMfNZJgBaA/s1600/WaterfordCrystalApprenticeBowl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kdRd5B7X4aewXfhjUsFi96b0ZQKKz2xhoh9Tr-5xRQq2IBoL9-1ae-JAH4Xi10phwTeG5aqwU87VMHnEgv4k7OakDeUSTdhWLD1sA7G7gdfIkqfcu6kSr_nXHexMfNZJgBaA/s1600/WaterfordCrystalApprenticeBowl.jpg" height="157" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> has 600 cuts and all 10 patterns in use by the company. If the apprentice was successful, he would study for an additional three years and become a Master Cutter. If not, he could quit or take the five year apprenticeship all over again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A few years later, a consortium of Irish businessmen injected some much needed capital to improve the facilities and they were moved away from Waterford. Over the next 40 years, the company exploded, building new facilities, winning awards, purchasing other companies, and becoming a publicly sold and traded company. When the dollar crashed in 1990, the company recruited new investors and new cash, retooled, and invested heavily in new technologies until 2008, when the economy turned sour again and they declared bankruptcy in 2009. At that point they were purchased by an "equity firm" from New York called KPS Capital, who were looking to expand their holdings to European markets.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">KPS struck an agreement with the Waterford City Council and moved the main production of the Crystal back to the City Centre in Waterford, where to this day they continue to melt down 7,500 tons of crystal and produce - mostly by hand - some 45,000 pieces.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And you know Dad and I couldn't leave without purchasing a couple of pieces to ship back home.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">BISHOP'S PALACE</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></b>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Our next stop was the Bishop's Palace, built by the Bishop of Waterford but he died before it was finished. It was eventually purchased by the architect - Richard Castle - and finished in 1741, recently renovated back to its original floor plan design in 2011. The fun part about this museum, which specializes in "Georgian Life" were the tour guides, who played the</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTxKpDiCmYhXNR5e5U_z81TIkve4qFKefCEjLwU4WNdRsBhrQCph3TlTTfp1IJdagJMbV4SEa-ihnwK-7gKA_JfbWYjOcsqliD12KmnIXuqcA-jTsMUNKQQ9RYi4uFLtoOAzgh/s1600/BishopPalaceBishopEste.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTxKpDiCmYhXNR5e5U_z81TIkve4qFKefCEjLwU4WNdRsBhrQCph3TlTTfp1IJdagJMbV4SEa-ihnwK-7gKA_JfbWYjOcsqliD12KmnIXuqcA-jTsMUNKQQ9RYi4uFLtoOAzgh/s1600/BishopPalaceBishopEste.jpg" height="320" width="207" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> parts of the head housekeeper and the butler. Here I learned that at the height of the religious feud between the Catholics and Protestants, the British Parliament passed a law that effectively said no Catholic could become King of England. When the current ruler produced no heir, they had to scramble to find a suitable candidate. Eventually they picked "German George," a German nobleman who was - get this - <i style="font-weight: bold;">*56th*</i> in line for the throne but the only Protestant. He was dubbed King George I, and it is his lineage that you can trace right down to today's Queen Elizabeth.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There was a huge portrait in one room of Daniel O'Connell, an Irish political leader in the early 1800s. He argued passionately for two things: The independence of Ireland through peaceful means, and the right of Catholics to hold office and be treated equally. A devout Catholic, he ordered that when he died his heart be cut out and sent to Rome, and the rest of his body be sent to Dublin for burial in his beloved Ireland. And so it was.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">MEDIEVAL MUSEUM</span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizBxxaik0tKf88yZdmSFN7SDuS4pQ5LmWlTZs93Y8srgkV25wDo8SEZNCVkCrRcAe1Vlec4B1bNmDq6zVdqxjp6u9V5-vMjJ4Nnm4LFJ3daDJKJet8y7Ip3YDJyEQA-oVCPZj0/s1600/MedievalMuseumVestmen1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizBxxaik0tKf88yZdmSFN7SDuS4pQ5LmWlTZs93Y8srgkV25wDo8SEZNCVkCrRcAe1Vlec4B1bNmDq6zVdqxjp6u9V5-vMjJ4Nnm4LFJ3daDJKJet8y7Ip3YDJyEQA-oVCPZj0/s1600/MedievalMuseumVestmen1.jpg" height="200" width="148" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Right next door - part of what they call the "Viking Triangle" - is the Medieval Museum. Here you can see relics and the history of Waterford from roughly 1065 up to 1650 A.D. The entire second floor is devoted to religious history and some of the vestments worn by the Bishops over the years are just amazing. (See photo)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">*****</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">About this time Pop and I were pooped and our brains were full. We crept back to the hotel for a good nap and then a short walk along the river before dinner. Unfortunately, right about then Dad's sugar gave out and he had a hypoglycemic episode that had me handing out glucose tablets and heading for the bar to get him a Coke. We got him into the restaurant for dinner and he eventually rallied and by the time dinner was done, he was back to himself again, but exhausted. Being a diabetic myself, I am intimately acquainted with that feeling.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So he hit the hay and I - as is our usual schedule - stayed up late to get the blog and Facebook photos done, as well as check on home correspondence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We head back into Dublin tomorrow to return our rental wheelchair and maybe pick up one more tourist destination before we head out to our final hotel.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">+++++</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"></span><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mark's Musings is published on a semi-periodical basis that may change without notice. Find me on Twitter at <a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.twitter.com/m</a><a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">arkmusings</a>. Facebook link is over there to the right. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. Tomorrow: Back to Dublin. Well, for a wee bit, anyway.</span></i></span>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-26157847100345038262014-04-17T18:22:00.000-04:002014-11-03T20:47:42.886-05:00Travels with Dad: Lost in Waterford (Sort Of)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWBRtWrzzTh2G9yjWFw19Dr2X_PQ_KkMBsBgsFk4JGTB8XGiKX7tu2Ch6prQoKoFwPp_aE2CE2EnDzVvrrdDMthDTqaLfnra6RhdUm1ZS8C4Gn598SIaaPwfVAV9B5lRy7zCrN/s1600/WaterfordDad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWBRtWrzzTh2G9yjWFw19Dr2X_PQ_KkMBsBgsFk4JGTB8XGiKX7tu2Ch6prQoKoFwPp_aE2CE2EnDzVvrrdDMthDTqaLfnra6RhdUm1ZS8C4Gn598SIaaPwfVAV9B5lRy7zCrN/s1600/WaterfordDad.jpg" height="247" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Today was a leisurely day with no activities planned, other than to travel from Blarney northeast along Ireland's southern coast up to Waterford, where tomorrow we will take the Waterford Crystal Factory Tour, which should be the highlight of the trip for Dad. He's been looking forward to it ever since we booked this gig. Ran into a little hiccup as we got into Waterford, however. Let me preface it by saying that while traveling with Dad a little over a year ago, I wrote <a href="http://mrhumornet.blogspot.ie/2013/02/traveling-with-dad.html" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">this piece</span></b></a> - and many more - about that trip. In it, there's a paragraph that specifically applies to our day in Ireland today:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">Traveling with Dad sometimes means "Adventures in GPS Programming." </b><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">Occasionally Dad will program </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">Shortest Route</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"> into the Global Positioning System (GPS), instead of </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">Fastest Route</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">. Usually this is by accident, but sometimes we do it intentionally. Setting your GPS for </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">Shortest Route</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"> is about the same thing as saying, </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">"I want to get there, but I want to see every backwood, neighborhood, county road, train crossing, and two-lane track in between where I am and there."</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"> We have literally gone through neighborhoods where I did not feel safe and where the road has gone from blacktop to gravel to dirt road and back again. It's the scenic route, for sure.</span></span></blockquote>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After following our Irish GPS through neighborhoods, suburbs, narrow country one-track lanes, and all manner of "R, N, and M" roads (Regional, National, Motorway - the U.S. equivalent of 4-lane divided expressway), I am now convinced with this trip to Waterford that it is programmed for "shortest route." Plain and simple, we got lost. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As the GPS - which had so far been a stalwart companion and gigantic boon to our journey - directed us through another small neighborhood in Waterford, it told us to turn right down Alley. That's what it called it. No name, just "Alley." The problem was there were two strong gate doors blocking our way. The "Alley" was clearly closed. So we drove on, waiting for the unit to "recalculate." It did.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And then directed us to take three lefts and return to a right turn onto "Alley."</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So we switched it off and drove on, hoping by blind chance and dumb luck to run into something sign-posted that might give us a clue about how to reach our hotel, which we knew was right up against the river.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We drove for about five or ten minutes, then realized that relying on a vehicular game of "Pin the Tourist on the Hotel" wasn't working. And the streets were getting considerably narrower and the neighborhoods considerably more run down. So finally, we spotted a city bus. Deciding that it must have to stay on major streets through the city, we decided to follow it. Eventually it led us to a petrol station. Take note, if you ever decide to drive in Ireland, gas stations are few and far between.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now, let me inject a word here about the people of Ireland. They are, quite simply, the nicest, kindest, politest, finest people group I have met in my travels. Without any need to be kind to strangers in their land, they have done so and gone out of their way to see Pop and I put right. Granted, most of the Irish I've met have been in the service industry and reliant upon the good will of the tourists and their customers, but you get a sense that they would be this way even off the clock. At any rate, the petrol station attendant gave us quite solid directions back to the City Centre and 20 minutes later (we had wandered that far off our path), we found our hotel and checked in.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After getting settled and letting me have a good lie down to get rid of my headache, Pop and I took a short walk around the hotel. This place, which claims to be the largest hotel in Ireland (in terms of number of rooms), looks like it was knitted and patched together with add-on wings and renovations over the years. Don't get me wrong, it's very nice, but I think the reason they have more rooms than any other hotel is because they have the <i style="font-weight: bold;">*smallest*</i> rooms of any hotel. At least that we've been in, so far.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But they have three things going for them: 1) They are less than two blocks from the Waterford Crystal Factory. Dad can walk there fairly easily, if we go slow enough, and the Factory has a wheelchair we can borrow; we checked this afternoon while we were out. 2) There is actually room between our twin beds to walk between them. The other three hotels we've been in ... well ... let's just say the beds are so close together that if we got cold Pop and I could have a pretty good cuddle and warm up. 3) The food in the hotel restaurant is not totally unreasonable Euro-wise and, in fact, it is delicious.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">However ... no washcloths. Weird.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #222222;">Waterford is Ireland's oldest city, having been founded and settled by the Vikings in the 800s. It lies on the banks of the River Suir (pronounced "Shure"), and it was here that the Irish flag was born. You can find a few more photos and some shots of some nifty - and expensive - Waterford Crystal products on my </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/MarksMusings" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Facebook Page</span></b></a><span style="color: #222222;">.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">+++++</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"></span><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mark's Musings is published on a semi-periodical basis that may change without notice. Find me on Twitter at <a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.twitter.com/m</a><a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">arkmusings</a>. Facebook link is over there to the right. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. Tomorrow: We get to see how that expensive Waterford Crystal is made!</span></i></span>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-16330051784464191592014-04-16T18:19:00.000-04:002014-11-03T20:47:55.472-05:00Travels with Dad: Blarney Castle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgquK90aUEz1qxqfmFBtKKo4nWiK2gtlJYTMWBzCCZQ-6d92AbJ96Wwfzq1ap3hILUPuuRyzc-jhdBR7ZlwpN_u-lyEFnzdbsdiROpPmjRnGRBi-eIUKvjS0NF6gslrCSkLsa0z/s1600/BlarneyCastleDadAndMark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgquK90aUEz1qxqfmFBtKKo4nWiK2gtlJYTMWBzCCZQ-6d92AbJ96Wwfzq1ap3hILUPuuRyzc-jhdBR7ZlwpN_u-lyEFnzdbsdiROpPmjRnGRBi-eIUKvjS0NF6gslrCSkLsa0z/s1600/BlarneyCastleDadAndMark.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I forgot one thing about yesterday: Driving down to County Cork and Blarney from Lahinch, we passed through the western end of Limerick (our GPS unit pronounced it "Lime-Rick"), which prompted me to write this bit of fluff and nonsense.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Two men in a car passed by Limerick</i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Said one, "My poor stomach must simmer; sick</i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i></i><i>These roads make me ill </i></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'll soon need a pill </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My anxiety has made me slimmer, quick!"</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I won't give up my day job. And this will be the last I write about Ireland's roads.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Nah, probably not.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">BLARNEY CASTLE</span></b><br />
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Today Dad and I drove down into the village, around the green, and there was Blarney Castle and surrounding gardens in all their 300-acre glory (well, once you parked and paid for admission). Blarney Castle is actually the third structure to occupy this site. It was originally built from wood in the 900s. Around 1210 it was replaced with a stone structure. Then, in 1446, Dermot Carmac McCarthy, the King of Munster, used the old castle stone to create the foundations for the current structure and rebuilt it one final time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Blarney Stone, of which this place is most well known, has a long and questionable history, with many origin stories. The one I tend to trust most - since there are Druid ruins on the castle grounds - is that McCarthy was being sued while the castle was being built. Before he went to court, he appealed to the goddess Cliodhna (pronounced Cleena), who was Queen over the fairies in Munster. She advised him to kiss the first stone he saw in the morning on his way to court. McCarthy did so, successfully argued his case with great eloquence and won, and thus the Blarney Stone came to be known as a stone that would bestow "the gift of deceiving without offense." McCarthy had it incorporated into the parapet design at the top of the castle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Blarney, the caretakers are quick to point out, is not "baloney." It is, as they explain, the "varnished truth," whereas baloney is an unvarnished lie.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Dad did his best to climb up into the castle, but we soon learned that the only way to reach the top was to take a winding spiral staircase that narrowed as it got higher and had 110 steps. So he patiently waited below, chatting up the other tourists and enjoying the marvelously mild Irish weather (sunny and 60s all week, so far), while I took his camera and made the climb, snapping photos as I went and wiping away the sweat.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To kiss the Blarney Stone, you have to lie on your back, then hang over the edge of the parapet above a hole in the structure (about six stories off the ground) to reach it. A staffer hangs on to you and they have installed a pair of iron rails you can grab for support, but it's still not an easy thing. Then there were the rumors. Before we arrived, we had heard that some natives use that hole in the parapet to ... umm ... relieve themselves of a full bladder.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">However, as I spoke with the staffers there, they assured me - before I could even get past the word "rumor" - that there was absolutely nothing to it. The facility is secured at night and it was a nasty, ugly story started by the locals disgusted by all the tourist traffic. Part of me thought, "Well, they <i style="font-weight: bold;">*have*</i> to say that," but it also had the ring of truth to me.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXpoinyXLapazkdstlVAvjmw4EnoyCaSIXcsguxPMVvh7hnj3RFaTCrdc294WT3Izm5FFMQ_kLilx0Wtn7ciN-a96fnFqYPSvI2pyY3HvRljG-_ipK1qTcNAQ4U2nlRbNBX72M/s1600/MarkKissingTheBlarneyStone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXpoinyXLapazkdstlVAvjmw4EnoyCaSIXcsguxPMVvh7hnj3RFaTCrdc294WT3Izm5FFMQ_kLilx0Wtn7ciN-a96fnFqYPSvI2pyY3HvRljG-_ipK1qTcNAQ4U2nlRbNBX72M/s1600/MarkKissingTheBlarneyStone.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So, after making a circuit of the parapets twice to twist my courage to the sticking point, I ... well, you can see.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">THE ROCK CLOSE</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After touring the Poison Garden - and, as always, you can see a bunch of photos from today at my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/MarksMusings" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Facebook Page</span></b></a> - Dad and I rolled and strolled past the Blarney Mansion, a beautiful four-story gothic structure that was, unfortunately, closed until June. From there it was a quick bite at a cafe built in the old stableyard, the purchase of a few more souvenirs, and then on to "The Rock Close," a site just beyond the stableyard that the Druids used as a gathering and worship point before Christianity came to the Isle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There were Druid Circles, Druid Stones, several stories and artifacts from "witches," and something called the Wishing Steps. See the photo below.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjps1gBGNaDyJI14DXilmsAJcPliRgZD6L7YIQ47aQllD0BLK0XSdXlo0Lwqb-9eeGXAj_nO0QyAlmXpT9MSXeahpAPGposzYIo7hTt063VGEuFwiqZmz0HVVpr4kjbmi-bbY7J/s1600/BlarneyCastleRockCloseWishingSteps.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjps1gBGNaDyJI14DXilmsAJcPliRgZD6L7YIQ47aQllD0BLK0XSdXlo0Lwqb-9eeGXAj_nO0QyAlmXpT9MSXeahpAPGposzYIo7hTt063VGEuFwiqZmz0HVVpr4kjbmi-bbY7J/s1600/BlarneyCastleRockCloseWishingSteps.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It was said that if you walked down these steps backward, with your eyes closed, everything you wished for came true.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">No, I did not try it. The only thing I would have wished for is that I wouldn't die while trying it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">+++++</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"></span><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mark's Musings is published on a semi-periodical basis that may change without notice. Find me on Twitter at <a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.twitter.com/m</a><a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">arkmusings</a>. Facebook link is over there to the right. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. Tomorrow: On to Waterford!</span></i></span></div>
Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-6758507683465872212014-04-15T19:36:00.002-04:002014-11-03T20:48:15.566-05:00Travels with Dad: Cliff at the Cliffs<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVnSqpwznYFUUPgtjhem4AvnjMJ91-mLzhu-yIVoSGaAoqhd02VvqjWOgWja3etcN8dduuvXIG8GxXXD7BGUueFgCUtG3aaA2TmE9SZEv48NHb-1KKH_W5__FHeUIJLX9GsrZ/s1600/CliffsOfMoherCliff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVnSqpwznYFUUPgtjhem4AvnjMJ91-mLzhu-yIVoSGaAoqhd02VvqjWOgWja3etcN8dduuvXIG8GxXXD7BGUueFgCUtG3aaA2TmE9SZEv48NHb-1KKH_W5__FHeUIJLX9GsrZ/s1600/CliffsOfMoherCliff.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Lovely weather, but windy and cold on the cliffs!</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My Dad's name is Cliff. So a stop at the Cliffs of Moher was certainly in order while we were in Ireland.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now Dad doesn't get around so well, anymore. He can walk with a cane for balance just about the length of a parking lot to a sanctuary without getting too winded, but beyond that, he can only go for very short distances without stopping for a breather. Which is why we have rented a wheelchair for us to use when we stop at a tourist attraction that requires a lot of walking.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Cliffs of Moher require, as you might guess from the background of that top picture, a LOT of walking. I will give the people who lead, plan, and manage the attraction big marks for making it as handicap-friendly as possible. What they have not managed so well is the placement of the wheelchair ramps. Specifically the steep angles at which they rise and decline. To use a wheelchair at the Cliffs of Moher you either have to rent two strapping young lads to power the thing, or be pushing a hamster.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We did neither of those things, so our time at the Cliffs was not as extensive nor as enjoyable as it could have been. However, to be fair, I realize that this is nature right on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean and there's only so much terraforming possible to accommodate the tourists and maintain your environmental responsibility to the Cliffs' natural majesty. So Dad enjoyed what he could and, as you can see, he did get a pretty good look at things. We payed our respects to this wonderful piece of Irish geography, payed even more with a gaggle of souvenirs at the gift shop, and took our leave. A few more pictures, as always, are at my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/MarksMusings" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Facebook Page</span></b></a>.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">LAHINCH</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">From the Cliffs, we made an all-too-brief stop at St. Brigid's Well, which is a sacred place of quiet contemplation in a cemetery behind a pub. Quite lovely and peaceful, really. I would have enjoyed it more had I not missed the turn and not seeing a place to turn around quickly, I stopped in the middle of the road, backed up, pulled forward, backed up, pulled forward, backed up, and finally was able to complete the turnaround. All under the watchful eyes of a lorry driver, who patiently put on his hazard lights for the motorists behind while he enjoyed the show. To be fair, there wasn't ANY traffic on the road when I began this foolhardy maneuver.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">At any rate, we eventually found ourselves in Lahinch, where we met the daughter of my good friend Tim - Amy - and her toddler daughter Estlin. Because you can't go all the way to Ireland and not stop to see someone you know from back home.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4UQ5oKT5DBsHXMxDC5yW3m09yLOm5VYzi8RMiL__n0Eiq-bbqGFOsqi5wWEJdy5cxq3ZKm4R7Sj5IrD1SveDxIuKt7SAv2PAr4Qym3c62DDj-W5I3ITjNSnaZ6i-3bBcG8jKI/s1600/AmyWithUsLahinch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4UQ5oKT5DBsHXMxDC5yW3m09yLOm5VYzi8RMiL__n0Eiq-bbqGFOsqi5wWEJdy5cxq3ZKm4R7Sj5IrD1SveDxIuKt7SAv2PAr4Qym3c62DDj-W5I3ITjNSnaZ6i-3bBcG8jKI/s1600/AmyWithUsLahinch.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I had known Amy as a young girl and had watched her grow up into a lovely, charming, and intelligent young woman. She eventually found herself living in Portland, Oregon, where she met the sister of her husband, Helen <i>(who was here for a visit and kindly snapped this photo for us)</i>. It was through Helen that Amy and Vinnie met and their relationship blossomed into marriage and now Amy lives here in Ireland, in a nearby town, with Vinny and Estlin and they are making a happy home for themselves. By the way, Amy is one heck of a wordsmith herself and writes deeply and passionately about her life at her own blog - <i><a href="http://amy-iwillariseandgonow.blogspot.ie/" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">I Will Arise and Go Now</span></b></a></i>. Recommended! And, by the way, the Cliffs of Moher are the background on her page.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">ON TO COUNTY CORK</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Then it was a nearly three-hour drive down winding Irish roads (with a gorgeously wide 20-minute divided highway segment) on to Cork and, more specifically, the "biggest little village in Ireland," Blarney.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One word to whomever it is that plans and signposts Irish roads. You do not need this sign:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUegjNstEmH1L3_H_eWvFMybAKoQvxGTYKp5zOlbOknSkwXugwHTvDFz8AkEMptRiTJ1Tu8VJeZTaN0-Z79TgKrAmHT1C8f2r7dRFbiowJmaNhQ4X5bZHN49zWry5oVUlYPtkE/s1600/TrafficSignCurves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUegjNstEmH1L3_H_eWvFMybAKoQvxGTYKp5zOlbOknSkwXugwHTvDFz8AkEMptRiTJ1Tu8VJeZTaN0-Z79TgKrAmHT1C8f2r7dRFbiowJmaNhQ4X5bZHN49zWry5oVUlYPtkE/s1600/TrafficSignCurves.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That sign, which we see every few miles, is totally superfluous. This sign is, in essence, merely a drawing of the entirety of Irish roads. It is, you could say, the natural state of things here from inside a motor vehicle. What the Irish need - really need - is this sign:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKztVWLyI0eh8iBT-1aBofqxpH9Op_28rgKwOdx9rWMUaV2Um_KW0VgzoPrgiXlXaeslnHHhZ17TGKLBltubHi5nW6PSinZ80KRKjId1rVbZxsVdisHga7KOeIjpoz9npjYfsd/s1600/TrafficSignArrowStraightJPEG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKztVWLyI0eh8iBT-1aBofqxpH9Op_28rgKwOdx9rWMUaV2Um_KW0VgzoPrgiXlXaeslnHHhZ17TGKLBltubHi5nW6PSinZ80KRKjId1rVbZxsVdisHga7KOeIjpoz9npjYfsd/s1600/TrafficSignArrowStraightJPEG.jpg" height="200" width="93" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now <i style="font-weight: bold;">*that*</i> is a sign to inspire hope, stir the heart, and bring audible sighs of relief to any who sit behind the wheel of a car on the Emerald Isle. Traffic Engineers of Ireland - make it happen!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">P.S. - No washcloths in our hotel room tonight. I'm starting to think it is the main difference between a four-star hotel and a five-star hotel.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">+++++</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"></span><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mark's Musings is published on a semi-periodical basis that may change without notice. Find me on Twitter at <a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.twitter.com/m</a><a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">arkmusings</a>. Facebook link is over there to the right. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. Tomorrow: Blarney Castle!</span></i></span></div>
Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22369640.post-65619287294508348762014-04-14T18:38:00.000-04:002014-11-03T20:48:28.783-05:00Travels with Dad: Connemara, Kylemore Abbey, and Car Trouble<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGwMmD8RSEDJC8GVv9iyALcKgo4nOEsGIwe9mev2RlX7qZYkIp4yvpwib_HywfzNsldANddQN0oN14BvuRaWhjLxmkPLwRIm5ovvsxXWZWR-kn7Q1fF00x90Hx4sKUgKYeyAX/s1600/RightHandDriveMe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGwMmD8RSEDJC8GVv9iyALcKgo4nOEsGIwe9mev2RlX7qZYkIp4yvpwib_HywfzNsldANddQN0oN14BvuRaWhjLxmkPLwRIm5ovvsxXWZWR-kn7Q1fF00x90Hx4sKUgKYeyAX/s1600/RightHandDriveMe.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Today we drove up into Connemara, which is west and northwest of Galway. Here we encountered the infamous roads of which we were warned. Narrow, winding this way and that, uneven, bumpy, no shoulder and always on alert for wayward sheep. BUT ... they were all well-paved!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And the drive was certainly worth it. We drove the road cut through the Twelve Bens (Pins) mountains. I suppose some might call them really large hills - the highest being 730 meters (about half a mile) - but the Irish call them mountains and who are we to argue? They are certainly gorgeous. Our hotel concierge told us he thought this was the prettiest part of Ireland and he wasn't far wrong.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">At first it reminded us of Michigan's Upper Peninsula but by the end of the drive, we were into a section that reminded us more of a dry western part of the U.S. Everything was brown, lots of scrub grass, rocks, and sheep. They call them the Twelve Bens because there are a dozen mountains, rising to points, good hikes if you're into that sort of thing. And they were the reason the road was so dang windy and uneven, as the engineers simply cut in between and around the hills.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I must admit this driving from the other side of the car on the other side of the road carries with it a certain element of ... fun. It's just such a huge change in perspective that it's challenging and I find myself rising to the challenge each day. There is, however, also a very real element of ... terror. Serious, bone-gnawing anxiety. Not since I was 16 years old and behind the wheel of a car for the first time have I kept my hands at "10 and 2" so often for so long.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In Connemara, Dad and I found ourselves driving slow. As in, really, really slow. Not only was Pop wanting to snap photos often, but the nature of the roads kind of demanded you keep your foot on the brake as much as on the accelerator. And then those little fluffy roadside umm, "speed bumps" (see photo) would be lurking around the corner and force you to slow down. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Our route was sign-posted at 100 kilometers per hour. That's about 63 m.p.h. Yeah, sorry. No. No. Way. Only a fool, madman, or the Irish would drive that fast on these roads. Today was, in my mind, known as "you show me a straight stretch of road, I'll show you a bunch of angry Irish motorists passing me."</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">KYLEMORE ABBEY</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We were told that, for the most part, Abbeys fell into disuse as religious fervor waned and they were eventually purchased by a rich nobleman who turned the place into a castle. In this case, the reverse happened.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Mitchell Henry, an Englishman (whose family was from Cork so he always claimed Irish allegiances) would frequent Connemara and stay at Kylemore Lodge, a hunting cabin on Kylemore Lake. He fell in love with the area and when his father passed, he received a large inheritance and purchased 13,000 acres of land and built Kylemore Castle. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He developed the land and invested heavily in economic reforms in the area, eventually becoming an M.P. (Member of Parliament) for Galway. The castle was finished in 1871. At the same time, he built a Victorian Walled Garden, the largest of its kind (6 acres) in Ireland. Just three years later, his wife died of dysentery while they were vacationing in Egypt. Deeply in love, Henry had the same architect that designed the castle build an accompanying Gothic Chapel in honor of his wife. Eventually, Henry went broke from losing money on his local investments and maintaining the property and sold it to the Duke and Duchess of Manchester in 1903.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Duchess was an American woman and her father, Eugene Zimmerman - a wealthy businessman - bought the place for them as her dowry. The Duke, however, was a gambler and in 1914 he lost the castle and grounds in a game of cards. A caretaker was installed and the property was eventually purchased in 1920 by the Catholic Church on behalf of an Irish arm of Benedictine Nuns, who have their own interesting back story. You can read more about that <a href="http://www.kylemoreabbey.com/the-benedictine-community/mission-statement" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">here</span></b></a> by scrolling down just a little.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So that was how (and when) a castle become an Abbey. There are about 20 new photos up on my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/MarksMusings" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Facebook Page</span></b></a> with more from the Glenlo Abbey, some views from Connemara, and Kylemore Abbey (with the Victorian Walled Garden).</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">CAR TROUBLE</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">On the way back to our *other* Abbey, suddenly a trouble light chimed and began flashing at me from the dashboard. We pulled off the road and yanked out the owner's manual to discover it was a "glow plug" (spark plug) issue, and we were advised to proceed immediately to the nearest repair facility.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Fortunately, we had just gone through Oughterard (about 15 minutes from Galway) and went back to a petrol station. They let us use their phone to call the rental company and get authorization for a garage to take a look at it. We were directed to a place just one block away where a fella named Gary Higgins took a hard look at things. If you're ever in trouble with a vehicle and near Oughterard ("oot-a-rard"), stop at the Esso Station and ask for Gary.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He checked. And checked. And fiddled with some things inside the engine. Checked again. Then took it for a drive. Later, my Dad explained something to me that made more sense of what Gary told me. Our car, you see, a Skoda Octavia, used a diesel engine. Dad informed me that diesel engines are "workhorses" and need to be driven hard.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">What Gary said to me, after all this checking and a test drive, was, "It's not the glow plug. I think it's a sticky EGR valve. It just needs revs, yah?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Revs. Revolutions. The engine needed to turn over faster. In other words, on these narrow winding Irish roads, I needed to be driving <i>*faster.*</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ulp.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">+++++</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;"></span><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mark's Musings is published on a semi-periodical basis that may change without notice. Find me on Twitter at <a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.twitter.com/m</a><a href="http://www.twitter.com/markmusings" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">arkmusings</a>. Facebook link is over there to the right. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761. Tomorrow: the Cliffs of Moher!</span></i></span></div>
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Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01027214901653201838noreply@blogger.com0